Memoirs of a Genius
by Schemergirl
Summary: Hojo going crazy. The man is back in town! Costarring Jenova, Sephiroth, Vincent, denial, moral decline and other fun stuff.
1. Day I

Disclaimer: As much as I love FF, I do not own anything. Jenova, on the other hand, owns. Period.

A/N: Yet another idea that crawled into my mind at some inhumane hour, inspired by my other fic… what if Hojo kept a diary? This is set in the time of the Jenova Project. Let the insanity begin… mwahaha…

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day I**

Oh, the indignity of it. I, Victor Hojo, a fully grown, emotionally stable man, writing a memoir. Lucrecia says it's a journal, I say it's a memoir. Neither are technically correct terms, but memoir just sounds so much more dignified.

Lucrecia gave me this book last night, as we were putting away the chemicals that were needed for the experiments. She told me that if I wrote in here, then maybe I wouldn't talk to the Jenova specimen and freak her out. Her words, not mine.

While Lucrecia is a beautiful, intelligent, woman, I can't help but think that she can be terribly illogical… so what if the specimen is thousands of years old, deaf and blind, catatonic in fact, with hardly any pulse? Doesn't mean I can't talk to it…

Silly woman.

Oh, I swear on Dimitri Ivanovich Mendeleev's name that Valentine is someday going to get an appointment with my scalpel. He just came up to me in that understated, cocky way of his and asked me why I am writing in a diary. I, keeping as cool and collected as ever, replied:

"Um, uh…that, Valentine, is not a diary."

"What is it then?"

"A memoir-uh, I mean, a science log."

As he smirked, I added, "Since when do you get paid to talk, anyway?"

Smooth, Victor, smooth. Valentine is hanging around, trying to see what I'm writing. I really don't comprehend the logic of Lucrecia courting him. Yes, they all think I don't know, but _we know, _don't we, Jenova dearest? …that was out of habit, a handwritten manifestation of my psychological affinity with the specimen. This will not happen again…. Jenova can't read my diary- _memoir!_

…

She can't… can't she?

Anyway, I digress. What does Valentine have that I don't? Let's make an analytical observation, shall we now? Valentine is gorgeous, has great hair, a physically fit body, he's a Turk, his intelligence is above average for a peon, he's a great shot, and he's a gentleman. I am… a genius. And I am very hygienic…in the laboratory.

Yes, yes, I know. In the mind of a woman, that hardly compares to what Valentine is. If I was a woman, I would definitely choose him…

I'm not a woman, though. And the observation of Valentine's assets was made on a purely neutral, analytical standpoint of perception.

What's this talking in my head? Yes, my theory is correct! If one is injected with the cells of the specimen, the subject will be able to connect with Jenova's thought and gain some of its ability! It's still too early to determine whether the latter is true, however. Maybe I should start practicing on the dartboard with Valentine's picture on it. You know, to see if my aim is improving after every injection of Jenova cells… not for pleasure, or anything…

The specimen is communicating to me...!

…No, Jenova, I am _not_ in denial about Valentine.

… Really, I'm not!

…Stop reading my memoir!

…Then how come you are replying to my writings without me thinking them?

…Yes, I certainly did catch you out… and you do know that all that this little chat resulted in is what is going to be a long, tedious and possibly painful experiment for you, and a good time for me?

…Why are you thanking me?

Ugh, Gast is calling me like I am his dog. My intelligence level is supremely higher than his, and his theories are far-fetched, so why am I his subordinate? He wants me to add a footnote to today's experiment's report… Another indignity. And yet another is that I was writing this while he was doing the work, as if I am incompetent!

I mean, _a footnote! _

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Professor Gast looked puzzled as an oddly dazed Hojo walked out the door after completing the report. He would have to ask Lucrecia if there were any problems with her husband, or conversely, ask and possibly reprimand Valentine if he'd been swapping around the chemicals Hojo injected himself with again. Their rivalry had not gone by unnoticed, to say the least.

Sighing, he took a look at the footnote.

_Inquire as to the possibility of the specimen having sadomasochistic tendencies and/or compulsions. Also, check the veracity of the specimen being female._

He would _definitely _be talking to Valentine.

OoOoOoOoOo

A/N: I can't help but think that my Hojo sounds like the Architect from the Matrix…

OK, a couple of references in this chapter:

1. Dimitri Ivanovich Mendeleev was a Russian chemist who, after many, many years of hard work and research regarding elements and such, came up with the Periodic Table. Needless to say, he is revered among scientists for coming up with it.

2. I called Hojo Victor because it just seems so appropriate, as in, Victor Frankenstein, as in the book Frankenstein.

Oh, and if you've read my other story, I am not obsessed with sadism; it's just a thing that's really big in the FF7 universe XD My rant is over now!

Please review and tell me if I should continue this….


	2. Day II

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

A/N: Thanks to all the nice, nice people who reviewed and told me to continue this! On with the show…

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day II**

I had a lovely, lovely dream where I was torturing Valentine… I think it was brought on by Lucrecia spending the night in the laboratory (read: sleeping with Valentine).

Jenova gets _such _brilliant ideas. When I talked to her this morning, with Gast looking at me oddly for some unfathomable reason, she told me that I could experiment with the spirits of monsters, and (this is the good part) inject them into Valentine! She didn't tell me specifics, though…

Let's think, which monsters will I use on the Turk? Something 'bad-ass'… though I am not entirely sure what that means, I heard it during an unfortunate trip down to the village, which I would rather not dwell upon, but it involved a big, black dog and blood. Lots of blood. _Anyway… _I know! Valentine, when angered, will become either a 'bad-ass' beast with a chainsaw, or some gargoyle-like 'bad-ass' creature! … And I'll think of more when the mood takes me.

All I need now is the chance and excuse to carry this experiment out.

…And no, Jenova, I did not read Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde lately. Or watch the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Wait a minute, there is something wrong with that. Precisely _when _did the specimen get to read or watch these modern sources of amusement?

She just told me she has her ways. For the first time in my life, I am not sure if I want to know.

I am almost convinced that the specimen is female. Judging from what she says, how she acts, or rather, blinks at me, since she isn't in a position to do anything else, (Her blinking is rather odd actually, since she is medically catatonic. On that matter should she even be communicating? Investigate) and her appearance, she certainly appears female. Or at least androgynous. Trust me, I can tell if something talks or acts like a female. I'm married, remember?

What if the specimen is a hermaphrodite?

…Jenova says to call her an 'it'. I'll call you whatever I want!

Lucrecia is done setting up the apparatus for today's experiment: to find out how the specimen reacts to certain metals. Not anything reactive of course, only caesium and potassium…

Jenova's telling me that the 'innocence' act isn't suiting me.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Well, the experiment was a success. The specimen does not really _react _with the metals, but rather, _it _(happy now?) absorbs them and can then use the energy that would have been used for a reaction _as a weapon. _Amazing. And it was pretty amazing when Jenova demonstrated the above on Valentine. He is going to need a new suit; Turks can't go around with a big gaping hole in their shirts… as lovely as the view may be…

How infuriating. Lucrecia and Valentine have now gone somewhere for her to 'tend' to his 'injuries'. Humph. And it doesn't help that Jenova is giving me a running commentary of what's going on in there.

I can't help but feel somehow violated, with Jenova talking in my head about such things. It's like, the actual _thing, _but going on in my head.

…

GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

Jenova is telling me not to be such a prude. No comment, for once.

Though she did share with me yet another brilliant idea. What would happen if the specimen's cells were injected into a developing foetus? I can imagine… a super being would be born! And I'll make sure Lucrecia is the mother… I know she wants children, and the illusion that all is alright with our marriage…

If she wants that illusion, I'll give it to her.

Now I must go see Gast, who appeared to have had a chat with Valentine earlier. I hope it has nothing to do with that.

A/N: Ok, that one turned out a little scary towards the end. Just for reference, the metals Hojo used on Jenova are amongst the highest in the Reactivity Series. Please review!


	3. Day III

Disclaimer: Me no own. Happy?

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day III**

I should be working right now, but I don't care, for once. I mean, if today's experiment were _my _idea, _then _I would be working. But it was Gast's, and I am currently in such a temper with him that I won't even listen to his asinine propositions that he calls experiments.

And do you know why, dear memoir? Gast, that stupid, incompetent, inane, insipid, pathetic excuse of a scientist 'had a talk' with me yesterday, and if 'having a talk' isn't degrading enough, he _dared _suggest that I better check, "what you inject yourself with, not that you inject yourself with anything, but there's a possibility that if you do, which you don't, that Valentine is swapping the chemicals," that stupid, idiotic, incompetent…

How DARE he suggest that Valentine is touching my precious Jenova cell injections! Valentine is too perfect for that!

…That rant was very therapeutic until that last sentence. Oh, dear, what have we here…

….Jenova, for once, kindly just SHUT UP.

I really, really, have to check the state of the specimen. It cannot possibly be comatose _and _beusing telepathy. Though I wouldn't put it past it. I'll check it tonight.

I have to go, Lucrecia's calling. Apparently she needs the restroom and needs me to replace her for a bit. Yeah, and where's Valentine, in the restroom as well?

…_Women. _You can only trust them if they are thousands-years old alien creatures, and even then I have my doubts. You know what's even more disturbing, dear memoir? I do not know who I am more jealous for, Valentine or Lucrecia.

Hey, at least I am not in denial, right?

RIGHT?

…SHUT UP, JENOVA! I really have to go now… if I leave the experiment unattended for too long, something may blow up------

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Well, we finished the disastrous experiment for today. Is it just me, or are things blowing up at very frequent intervals lately? I don't know whether to put it down to Jenova being more talkative lately or to the sexual tension floating around… between Valentine and _Lucrecia_, you dirty-minded piece of paper. And Jenova, if you are reading this: I know what you are thinking by this point. Stop giggling in that foolish way. It is unbecoming of a scientific breakthrough.

Turns out it is Gast's birthday. Good for him.

…

Turns out we all have to go to the local bar to celebrate. Celebrate WHAT, exactly? My high tolerance for pain and frustration?

If we go to the bar, I won't be able to experiment on Jenova… I know, I'll bail out early, that way I can keep appearances _and_ work! Genius…

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Very boring so far. Lucrecia and Gast are looking at me writing in here and are telling me to take the night off and stop writing in my 'science log'. So, I am fooling Lucrecia, as well… the girl must be really stupid, as _she _gave me this book, after all...

A disturbing thought just came to my mind: what if she reads this? She wouldn't, right?

…

Where's Jenova's soothing, psychotic, patronising voice when you need it?

Oh, shite. Valentine is speaking. We don't pay him to talk. No, we most definitely do _not _pay him to talk.

"Let's liven this up a bit… let's have a drinking contest!" says the Turk. Typical.

Of course Lucrecia thinks this is a good idea. And so does Gast.

"Ooooh, let's!"

"In my youth I was the champion!"

I just go 'humph'. Fatal mistake.

"Hey, Hojo," the Turk addresses me with that cocky smirk of his. Nothing good can or will come out of this. "I bet you couldn't beat me, _ever. _You are much too 'sensible', are you not?"

He gives me another of his infuriating, cocky, grins. Of course, I cannot decline now. And my tolerance level is high enough... at least I hope so. I never really drank before. Except for that one time, and when I woke up I didn't know where I was, but let's not get into details about that, shall we now?

"I could out drink you by a mile, Valentine. It's me against you."

Gast and Lucrecia look excited enough to get out the banners, so to speak. I guess it isn't every day when the dignified Professor Victor Hojo participates in such a common, mundane 'contest'. Valentine smirks and asks the bartender for the 'strongest thing he has'.

I will win this! I will…

A/N: Alcohol is _such_ a great humour plot device, is it not? Nothing like making complete fools of those characters that claim themselves to be so dignified… or is that just me? Thanks to reviewers, and to those who didn't review, please do!


	4. Day IV

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Sue rhymes with moo. So don't moo, either… (That, my friends, was a WTF moment. Plenty of those when I am concerned.)

A/N: Some shounen-ai implications in this chapter, dear readers- in case you don't like it, well, there's no more shounen-ai after this chapter.

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day IV**

Shite.

Ugh, my head hurts, I feel like I may vomit, my clothes are nowhere to be seen, and I don't know where I am. I don't really want to find out either, though something tells me that all will be revealed soon enough. I hope the specimen cannot read minds, or it'll be able to hold this as blackmail against me, especially if I am where I think I am…

Now I now why I've never been so big on drinking before. Hangovers are simply the worst.

What's this? Movement.

…Shite. That isn't Lucrecia beside me, on the bed…

_OoOoOoOoOo_

In shock. Don't want to write about it. Thinking that I can and _will _be violently sick. Too much in shock to speak in anything other than sentence fragments. Problem?

AAAARGH.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

That's it. I am not coming out of my and Lucrecia's apartment today. I don't care about Jenova's state for once. Yes, it's just that bad. I spent a grand total of ten minutes in the laboratory, and in that short amount of time got X amounts of funny looks from everyone, as did Valentine. Not to mention Jenova giggling PROFUSELY. I don't know _exactly _what happened last night, but I have a very good idea. I always have very good, accurate, detailed, ideas.

So what did I do about the lab situation? I said I was too sick to work and just came practically crawling here in a way that was _so _dignified.

Pfft.

So now what? I have the whole day to either mope, read, watch anime, or write down experiment ideas.

Or I can plan a most… _cruel_ way to torture Valentine, and claim my vengeance for the debauchery I was put through.

That sounds like a much, much better way to spend the day than deflecting people's funny stares.

So, let's see… there's the injecting-of-the-spirits-of-monsters, as proposed by Jenova. That's a good one.

If I am so unstable, I wonder what will be the results of a stupid drinking game against Jenova?

Don't want to know. Mind on the subject matter, Professor Victor Hojo…

Alright then, what else can I do to Valentine? There's the injecting…Chainsaws! I will saw off his dominant arm… his left, if I recall correct… and please don't ask how I know. And THEN, I will fit him with a very, _very _uncomfortable metal prosthetic!

I can shoot him, too. With his own gun. And then I will make him immortal, something I found out how to do just recently, involving the use of Jenova cells… and I know it's more torture than fun.. seeing all your beloved dying as you struggle on… _Lovely. _

Now, what else? Excessive amounts of Jenova cells? _Definitely. _Then he won't only have the annoying voices of monsters talking to him, he'll have Jenova as well… then he can see what _hell _I'm going through!

I feel so delightfully capricious right now. And evil. But mostly capricious.

What to do, what to… I know! SCALPEL-THROWING PRACTICE!

….

Damn chocolate cereal. Thought I told Lucrecia to stop getting it.

CHOCOLATE MAKES ME HYPER!

Ah, well. I am constantly led to temptation.

…

I shudder to think of what _else _that last statement could have meant. Ugh. UGH. What I meant, dear memoir, is that chocolate tempts me.

Know what? I'm in no mood to explain anything to a piece of paper.

TV TIME!

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Lucrecia walked in to her's and Hojo's apartment that night to find him snoozing in front of the television, with Pokemon showing, no less. An empty box of chocolate cereal and a bowl lay on the floor nearby. She decided not to wake him up, as he was probably still mad about the previous night.

All _she_ recalled, before Gast sensed the tension and called it a day, taking her away from the bar with him, was her husband and her lover looking at each other strangely after an eighth shot (or something to that effect) and going out 'for a smoke'. She noted that while Vincent looked perhaps a tiny bit drunk, Hojo had looked positively wasted. Therefore: Vincent won.

Also noting the fact that Hojo didn't smoke, she decided she didn't want know what happened next… and didn't really mind either. In fact, she considered it a good way for the two men in her life to act… _friendlier_ and be on better terms with each other. She giggled and went to make herself some dinner, picking up her husband's glasses off the floor as she went.

A/N: Thanks to whoever reviewed, and please tell me what you thought of this little plot twist… the word 'sick' comes to mind… XD Hojo is becoming a bit more comfortable with writing a 'memoir', did anyone notice?


	5. Day V

Disclaimer: In case anyone from Square-Enix is reading, then, no, I don't own this. _But_, I'm willing to buy…

A/N: After last chapter's freakiness, here's some, ahem, sanity for you all…

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day V**

Felt good enough to go to work today, although getting there was… strange. Seems like rumour spreads really fast in these little mountain villages; all the villagers were giving me funny looks.

Lucrecia said that she will be coming later. She looked a bit dazed. Ah, well.

Gast. Must. Die. Every time he calls me to do something, he smiles at me sympathetically. Doesn't he have a wife to exercise his sympathy on?

Hey, wait… isn't his wife an Ancient?

Interesting. Thank you for telling me, Jenova…

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Ah, the joy of lunch breaks. I used the free time to inject myself with Jenova cells… and then made the mistake of falling asleep. I had a funny dream which I remember vividly: there was a blue light, and everyone was floating towards it in a black void, and this creepy child was saying 'don't go towards the light'.

It was 'trippy'. Reminded me of an acid trip I had a couple of years ago.

Hey, these _are_ the sixties, after all. Sure, I am a sensible, rational genius, but I am also a scientist… and how do you think scientists gather enough information to list the effects of drugs? Abstinence? Relying on information from addicts?

_Definitely _not.

The lunch break is over. We are now going to do the experiment that I wanted to do for two days now: how come Jenova can communicate by telepathy while being in a comatose state. Gast thinks I'm crazy, because he doesn't hear the voices. Well, he's crazy, then. He's not worthy of my intelligence.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Turns out that the specimen can communicate due to a handy function in its brain: when the part used for movement, the senses, etc is incapable, or comatose, the part used for telepathy, which is the part in the human brain that is unused, surfaces as a sort of defence mechanism.

Brilliant. So, we conclude that, when temporarily disposed of, Jenova drives predators away by driving them away with her insane ramblings.

…Actually, that is the defence mechanism of all women. Lucrecia especially. Last night, she decided to give me an accurate account of what happened _that _night. That sure scared me out of bed. I mean, creepiness may turn Vincent- I mean Valentine, on, but it sure does _not _do anything for me.

I am pretty sure, in fact, that that sort of creepiness may turn Valentine on.

But let's not dwell on that. Please? I am starting to sound more and more like an obsessed teenager. I blame it on all the brainwashing nonsense commonly referred to as anime that I watched yesterday.

I was supposed to write in my log, like Gast is doing. Ah, well.

Oh, Lucrecia just came in. She is saying that we have a reason to celebrate.

I find three things wrong with that statement:

1. The last 'celebration' this little group of ours had ended up terribly for me,

2. The other time she said that, it was teasingly, regarding the fact that my hair did not look greasy for once. It's not my fault that it's so oily despite using all those expensive Body Shop products that claim to perform miracles! It's just in my genetic makeup, that I will never have hair as perfect as Valentine's… GAH!

AND

3. The way she said it sounds as uncharacteristically happy as one of those teenagers of today saying that... well… who cares how the teenage psyche works! Ten years ago, when I was a teenager, I was grateful for everything… the youth of today!

I was so caught up in my rant that I did not hear her grand confession. For some reason Gast is looking in a confused way between me, Lucrecia, and Valentine. Valentine is looking at me oddly, and Lucrecia is grinning at everyone.

I almost feel like an idiot.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"Oh, darling, you must be so astounded that your brain took a holiday to your science log..."

Astounded by what? WHY IS SHE HUGGING AND KISSING ME IN PUBLIC! PDA! PDA!

"Darling, I'm pregnant!"

_OoOoOoOoOo_

OH.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Insert deity here> DAMN.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Back in the apartment. Is it just me, or do I appear to be getting a lot of shocks lately? I mean, I know I wanted a child, to experiment on and to save our marriage, but I never realised… the _responsibility _of it. The feeling that I… would slaughter _anyone _who so much as looks at Lucrecia's stomach the wrong way in the next nine months.

Alright... I am a scientist. I am not allowed to be overly emotional… probably the reason why Lucrecia does not reach her full potential; that woman is a whole bag of emotions. I must plan what to do.

First: Propose the experiment to Lucrecia. If she declines, manipulate her into seeing it from my point of view.

Second: Start administering the injections.

Third: In the late part of the second trimester, check child's sex and DNA.

A disturbing thought just occurred to me. What if the child is Valentine's…?

I feel like strangling someone.

I wonder if having such violent thoughts all the time is part of being a father.

These will be a busy nine months for everyone…

A/N: This is the last chapter before a time jump… Hope you enjoyed and please review!


	6. Day VI

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Time jump! Warning: Hojo insanity!

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day VI**

I haven't written in here for quite a while… I've been busy. Lucrecia is to give birth in a couple of days, SQUEE! Ahem, as you can see, I am rather excited. It's my child, not Valentine's. I wonder what to call him. Yes, him. It's a boy. Since I am rather bored, what with me being alone in the labs and everyone else asleep, (everyone in separate beds, I made sure of that. This place is full enough of hormones, with Lucrecia pregnant and Vincent all pretty like that and… GAH)… I digress. The point I was trying to make was, I should try and find a name for my ittle wittle baby… I mean, my progeny.

Alright. Erik? Too Phantom-esque. Thomas? No. Barret? No. Vincent? NO.

How about something more… biblical? Jesus? Judas? Seyton?

This will not be easy.

Whoops, I must go, Jenova's calling. We are formulating a plan, not just A plan, but TEHplan!

That misspelling was intended. What is coming over me lately? Must be the injections. I've tripled my dose as of three months ago. All that work. Meh.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

So. The plan's like this: let Gast lie low for a while, until he has a child with his wife. Go to their posh place in Icicle Inn, kidnap mother and child. Gast too, maybe. Then, I do a LOT of experiments I've been planning on doing but couldn't due to significant lack of Cetra. Pity, I would have injected my boy with Cetra cells as well.

I know! I can breed my boy and Gast's child and see what happens... or is that reaching too far into the future? Probably. I am talking to myself but I don't care.

While it is Jenova who comes up wit the plan outlines, it is I who defines the plans… so I think I should take credit.

…Oh hush, Jenova darling. Did you know that Gast _still_ thinks that you are an Ancient? I knew you weren't since the beginning.

I wonder if Vincent still has the nerve to see Lucrecia?

_Hang on, _since when do I refer to Valentine by his first name? Most disturbing.

Injection time.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Ah, that was relaxing. I am not addicted, I swear to any deity you want, but at this rate I may become more powerful than my boy. Actually, no. I will always have age to drag me down. I am thirty… I'm getting old. Way, way, too old. I know 'old' is around seventy-ish, but still.

Very funny, Jenova. _Do you know what she said? _'Her Royal Highness' said:

"Hojo, you've lost your mojo."

That is not funny. I've never liked laughs on my account. How about baby names, Jenova? Maybe you can find a good name in your current creative mood?

… I wouldn't call 'Cloud' a good name. And while 'Zachary' has a certain ring to it… no. Just no.

I have prepared my torture on Vincent. It's only a matter of time. But knowing my luck, I'll probably approach him while in a state that is less than lucid. Like I was before those injections. Or like I am if I've went too long without one.

Oh, dear. Jenova said her cells aren't addictive. Lying bitch.

…I don't care that you've heard that. You've made me break an oath that I've made to myself, that I would never get addicted to anything.

Admittedly, I made that oath while being on that acid trip which I believe I've mentioned.

Maybe I should switch to caffeine?

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Vincent Valentine was pissed off. _Really_ pissed off. He'd just gotten off the phone with Veld. After being shouted at for ten minutes for calling at four o'clock in the morning, he'd tried to make Veld pull some strings to let Lucrecia off the project so that they could run away together, though he didn't put it in these words, of course. Veld had told him not to be silly and that it wasn't up to the Department of Administrative Research, but up to the Science Department, and since Professor Gast is the Head, why doesn't he ask him? Vincent hung up after whining for a bit.

If it was up to Gast, _no way_ Lucrecia could be allowed to leave. Gast was nice enough, but he always put work first. And Vincent didn't think Gast knew about the Jenova injections Lucrecia was getting; in that case, he was the only one.

So, that left only one thing- running away with her. Illegally. But, first things first: morning coffee. He was drowsy now that the adrenaline from his shouting match with Veld had worn off. He was lucky that he was the best, and that Veld was his friend, or else he would be fired.

_Screw that. Must…get…coffee…_

Vincent groaned to find that there was no coffee in the apartment he was staying in. It was too early for the shops to be open. His only other option was to go to the kitchen in Shinra mansion.

This was a sign of how desperate he was for coffee. This wasn't abnormal, it was part of the job requirement of being a Turk.

_When you're a Turk, you develop a craving for caffeine. It's the only way you can survive. Trick of the trade._

Vincent reached the kitchen of Shinra mansion and headed straight to where the coffee was stored. To his amazement, he found none, despite having purchased three tins of Nescafe the previous day. Suddenly, he heard maniacal laughter behind him. Dreading what he would see, Vincent slowly turned around to find… Hojo, sitting up against the wall next to the door. He'd walked right past him.

And sure enough, Hojo was clutching a mug of coffee in his hand, and three empty tins were beside him.

"Ah, Vincent. Good to see you on this fine morning," Hojo said, getting up.

"Since when do you call me Vincent? And it's not a fine morning… it's a typical, humid, rainy spring day," Vincent stalled, getting away from Hojo, who was slowly moving toward him.

"Oh, Vincent baby…"

Vincent was getting worried. He put a hand on his gun. While Vincent was very open-minded, he sure didn't want a replay of The Drinking Incident.

"Hehehehe, let go of your gun, you could put someone's eye out with it."

"Hojo, get away from me, you're…"

"YOUR HAIR FEELS LIKE FRESHLY GROUND COFFEE BEANS! AND IT'S THE COLOUR OF COFFEE!"

"It's not, it's black! ...oh, I get it, black coffee… oh shit."

"Ooooh, you smell like… COFFEE!"

"It's aftershave, you insane, hyper… man."

"Hehehehehe."

"Hojo?"

"HEHEHEHEHE."

"Hojo!"

"…"

"…"

"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE."

"Keep your voice down, people will think we're f-"

"HEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEEHE!"

"HOJO!"

"…"

"ARGH!"

A/N: What did Hojo do to Vincent? Nothing hentai was intended, but you can use your imaginations… ;) Please review!


	7. Day VII

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: At the time of writing this, Memoirs of a Genius had 666 hits. Consider that an Omen for Hojo… And here thou shalt discover what Hojo did to Vincent… MWAHAHAHA. (I think Hojo's insanity is starting to rub off on me. Oh well.)

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day VII**

Oh dearie me. Hehehehe, I think I drank too much coffee. Whoopsie. Hang on, there's an ant…

Short attention span. COFFEE. Hehehehe.

Anyway, that silly Vinnyturk is laying a few metres away, unconscious. Lying ON THE FLOOR. I say, where is his dignity? I bet he's jealous of mine…

They make those Turks too sensitive. Alright, so I injected him with some Jenova cells. So what? Oh yeah, and there was that part where I threw a rock at his head. Hehehe. Oh, and there was the freaky staring competition. Moo. Hehehehe. I won it. HEHEHEHE.

WAIT! EPIPHANY!

It is five AM, on a fine spring's day, and I know what to call my son! It will suit him like no other name would! My son shall be called…

GEORGE!

Hehehehe, my pretty baby Georgie weorgie… gorgy…. Hehehehehe…

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Forgive me, for I do not know what influenced me to drink all that coffee. I am better now, thank the Elements. No more losses of dignity for me. Not that there were any.

Valentine, however, is unconscious. Silly boy, disturbing me during my experiments… it's not like he can help…

…Jenova, get your mind OUT of the gutter. NOW.

…No, I don't want to hear your perception of an experiment. Go back to blowing bubbles in your tank.

I suddenly feel like injecting myself with Jenova cells again. I bet it has nothing to do with her.

Not at all.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

It is now evening. Valentine is trying to convince Lucrecia to run away with him as we speak- I mean, as I write. They think I don't know what's going on. Foolish mortals. I'm not mortal because of the gargantuan amount of Jenova cells in me. Therefore, we conclude that I am not foolish. Yay.

…What the blazes did I write 'yay' for?

Gast is talking on the phone to his wife. Something about… no wait you don't want to know. And I didn't, either.

I can't wait until he retires. Or dies. Whichever comes first.

Ooooh, Lucrecia just came in with tears in her eyes. Looks like she broke it off with Valentine. Now that's a good move. If he broke it off with her, however, I can understand where he's coming from. While a containing great potential for a scientific breakthrough, her stomach is nothing but a liability…for…certain….

Things. Hehehehe.

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes, Valentine. I think I shall have to go talk to him. To rub it in, you know. Hehehehe.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

…

Well, that was a disaster.

So I went up to Valentine when everyone else was gone, yeah?

And I told him, "Foolish mortal, my wife picked me!"

And he said, "How do you know?"

And I was like, "I know things."

Then he gave me A Look.

I gave him The Look back.

And then… never mind.

I think I shall go become a Wutain monk. Deities know I need it.

No really, think about it: the peace, spending all day studying, the vow of celibacy…

The only downsides are that science is the antithesis of religion and that I don't believe in Da-Chao, Leviathan, or the Five Gods.

Leviathan on a pogo stick, I sound like a teenage girl!

_OoOoOoOoOo_

I'M IN A CRISIS HERE. I was looking at Valentine's huge gun, admiring its reliability (THE METAL THING YOU SHOOT PEOPLE WITH, JENOVA) when the apparently 'reliable' gun went off… and shot Valentine. In the chest.

After the initial running around in circles like a headless Chocobo, I thought, 'Well, I was planning on doing it anyway.'

Then however, I thought, 'Yes, but NOT LIKE THIS!'

So I just gave him the Jenova Resuscitation Technique™, which, thankfully, does not involve CPR (thank the deities of science) but rather a massive amount of Jenova cells.

So now I have a half-dead Turk on my hands and nowhere to put him.

He spoke.

"Hojo… NEVER… fondle…a…ny…mans...guns…again….or swords, for that matter."

…

Oh, that's just great.

Crap, Lucrecia just came in. After looking at the lab, messy from…the previous…Incident, she looked at Vincent, lying on the operating table, then at me, leaning over the Turk, and got the wrong impression. Half-wrong, I am forced to admit.

"I don't care what you two men were doing just before I came in, but I…uh… I think I'm in labour…"

"Just a second, Lucrecia," I tell her, 'freaking out', as they say, inwardly.

She went to the toilet to throw up.

Alright, I just earned myself five minutes. What to do with the (almost dead) body… what to do… WHAT TO DO!

_OoOoOoOoOo_

I stuck him in the basement. Until I can get back to finish my experiments on him. Hehehehe.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Gast is here, and Lucrecia is on the operating table. The gravity of the situation just dawned on me, and guess what?

"What do you mean, _I _have to deliver the baby?"

"What's the matter, dear? It's nothing you haven't seen before!"

I am aware that pregnant women are constantly delirious, especially during labour. BUT STILL. Gast has got that facial expression that one gets when one is trying their hardest not to vomit/laugh/both.

So, here I am, looking incredibly professional, staring at Gast, who is staring at me. I stare at him some more.

"Fine," I say sulkily.

At this rate, I will start to go insane.

A/N: Next chapter: George (snicker) is born! Oh, and I'm thinking of extending this until the time frame of the game… and possibly beyond. Please review!


	8. Day VIII

Disclaimer: Why do I still have these? Oh yeah, the possibility of being sued. Don't own.

A/N: Slight change of POV here.

**Memoirs of a Genius**

It was a bright, bright spring day in Nibelheim, complete with children playing jovially in the square, birds chirping for no reason other than to annoy their sleeping mates, the sun burning anyone who forgot to apply SPF 40 (at the very least)… and most of all, the birth of new life.

But since the Planet works in mysterious ways, it negated this by crushing an innocent hiker near Bone Village under an avalanche.

But where were we? Ah, yes. The birth of new life.

In the confines of Shinra mansion, a team of scientists, two male, one female, were staring at a freakishly pale, large, baby, whose chubbiness would have been endearing had it not been for it's striking green eyes with vertical pupils, like a cat's. Professor Victor Hojo, PhD, MD, biologist, father, etc. could have sworn that those eyes were already plotting and scheming. The baby hadn't even cried.

"It appears that he is male," Hojo observed as Gast wrapped the boy in a blanket.

"Yes, Victor, indeed."

_Professor Hojo to you! GAH!_

"I want to hold him," Lucrecia said, wincing. It had been a hard labour, almost twenty-four hours long.

"You heard the woman," Gast said, handing the boy to Hojo and walking outside, presumably to get his notes, but actually to give the couple their privacy. Hojo walked over to Lucrecia after a moment or two of staring after Gast, and gave her the boy, albeit a bit reluctantly.

"Ah, he's so beautiful…" Lucrecia said, and looked up at Hojo. "Victor, darling, I haven't got long, I'm dying…"

"You are? Since when?"

"I have just one last request before I go…"

Hojo thought she looked incredibly peaceful for one who claimed to be dying. Strangely, he found himself caring… but only a little bit.

_Lucrecia must still be on those sedatives. Typical._

"Go on?" he asked.

"…"

"What?"

"You're supposed to say, 'no, hold on, my life, my love!'"

"…You've been watching movies for too long… again."

"Oh, Victor!" she snapped. "I have one final request before I GO!"

"Go where?" Hojo was enjoying this.

"My request is…" Lucrecia continued, ignoring Hojo, yet growing more and more annoyed, "I want our child to be called… Sephiroth."

"…"

"…"

"What kind of name is _Sephiroth_?"

"Why, what did you have in mind?"

"George," Hojo said proudly.

"…Victor…" Lucrecia started, her voice laced with venom, "Our boy will be called Sephiroth. Not George. Not Frank. Not any other name. SEPHIROTH, DAMNIT!"

"Alright, alright, relax…"

"I'M DYING, I HAVE A CHILD, AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO RELAX!"

_So, the sedatives wore off._

Sephiroth gave a childish giggle of amusement.

"Ok, I'll just take… Sephiroth… and leave you to die in peace."

"Oh, goodbye, my love, my unrelenting passion!" Lucrecia said over-dramatically to Hojo's retreating back.

"Um. Yeah."

Needless to say, Hojo was not exactly renowned for his romanticism... and he was proud of it.

**Day VIII**

Lucrecia is a liar. She said she was dying… but when Gast and I came back, she wasn't there.

Oh, well. We don't need Lucrecia anymore anyway. All the rest of the things that have to be done can be done in the labs in Midgar… Gast is already packing. I gave Sephiroth (what kind of name is that!) his first injection and he _laughed. _He. Is. So. CUTE! I didn't let Gast touch him… MY baby! Mine!

Hehehehehehe.

Anyway, Gast is packing and then heading straight to his apartment to get some rest, which means I can spend some quality time with my favourite, half-dead, Turk.

…Jenova, babysit Sephiroth for me, won't you?

..I am not being irresponsible, the baby is self-sufficient. As self-sufficient as they get, at least.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

I'm a father! I'M a father! A father, me! I'm a FATHER! FATHER! FATHER! FATHER!

Well, that was impulsive.

…Yes, I'll be going now.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Oh dear. I was just about to start doing things (not _those_ things, perverts) to Vincent when Gast unexpectedly came in, saw the gun lying around, the several syringes next to me, and Vincent, who was covered with blood, and lost it.

"OH MY GOD, you killed Vincent!"

"Shut up."

He opened his mouth in protest, but before he could say anything more, I injected him with some strong drug which will knock him out for a few hours. When he wakes up, he won't remember a thing.

Hee. I'm _baaaad… _or rather, what was that word again? 'Bad ass'? Yes. That.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

What an exhausting day.

After dragging Gast to the labs, I went back to Vincent, who was vacantly staring at the ceiling… the only thing he has strength enough to do, really. I gave him another Jenova injection… I know I'm overdosing him… that's my intention… and he could finally speak. And move his arms around a bit. Unfortunately.

"What are you doing to me? Where is Lucrecia? You… you…"

"Wait a minute, this won't hurt at all…" I say, taking out a huge needle containing the essence of four of my creations.

Vincent's eyes widened prettily. "What…"

Without warning, I jam the needle into one of the veins in his left arm… that arm will probably be rendered useless. Ah, well, two birds with one stone.

"OH SHIT, YOU SAID IT WOULDN'T HURT!"

"Did I now? Forgive me."

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later, I'm busy now."

He glares at me. I pride myself on my poker face as I ask him, "What?"

"…Hojo?"

"…yes, my pretty subject?"

"What…what are those voices in my head?"

I feign deep thought before answering, "The female one is Jenova. The other four are my favourite creations… which I will further investigate tomorrow."

"How come I'm alive if you shot me in the chest?"

"Jenova."

"Ah. Doesn't the bullet have to come out?" He points out.

I rather forgot that detail. Taking the bullet out would involve taking off his jacket. And his shirt. I didn't want another… mishap, should we say?

"Take this knife," I say, giving him the equipment as I mentioned it, "and this suture kit and antiseptic. Try not to kill yourself and have a nice day."

I calmly walked out.

"HOJO! YOU BASTARD!"

What, if he wanted that bullet out so badly, he should do it himself. As lovely as he is, I want to preserve what dignity I have left.

…Though I am still quite intrigued as to where Lucrecia went. Ah, well. Gast is probably just waking… I wish I could see the look on his face. Sephiroth is in the apartment… somewhere. He's _already _gotten to crawling, after just one day. Incredible. And he has this disturbing laughter already… like 'give me the candy or I will shit on you.'

And yes, I am aware that closing the bedroom door for fear of what a baby may do to me is completely absurd, but whatever.

Going to bed.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

I wonder if Vinnykins took out the bullet yet?

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Blood looks _so _nice in contrast with his skin.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

I am an idiot. What if he slit his wrists with that knife?

…I'm off to the mansion. Sephiroth can stay here. Vincent's life is at stake.

…Why do I care?

Valuable test subject, that's why.

Right.

A/N: FLUFF! Well, kind of. Thinking back, I remember saying '_no more shounen-ai'_. Oops. Just so you know, since this fic is about Hojo, it will be pretty unpredictable… Mwahahaha….

I do not know anything about DoC, and probably will not know anything until it comes out here in November/December, therefore I do not know what part Hojo had in the creation of Zvet, or what happened to Lucrecia, so this fic just follows the stuff we all know from the game, movie, etc…

Please review! I have lots of hits, but many less are reviewing… hinthint.


	9. Day IX

Disclaimer: Insert witty comment here; don't own.

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day IX**

Well, this just keeps on getting better and better.

Apparently Gast found out about Jenova not being an Ancient, got attacked by something called a conscience, and fled back to Midgar. Without all of the notes, thankfully, because if he did take them, who knows what he would do with them.

Lucrecia is still AWOL.

And Vincent? Don't get me started about that idiot. Pretty idiot, but still. I left my apartment in a hurry, leaving all of my possessions to the mercy of Sephiroth (thankfully Jenova is too busy talking to/bothering Sephiroth to laugh at _me,_ for once), and went back to the basement of Shinra Mansion, where I left Vincent.

What a scene. He had gotten as far as using the knife, and was staring at it sticking out of his chest.

"Valentine."

"Hojo."

"That's Professor Hojo to you. And… why, may I ask…?"

"You told me to take the bullet out."

At this point I didn't know if to laugh hysterically, to scream, or to remain calm. I settled for a rather disturbing mixture of the three.

"You…stupid…Turk…" I said, trying to stop laughing. "You really are something"

At that, I walked over to him, and pulled out the knife which was on the other side of his chest as opposed to the bullet.

"Oops," he said.

I started laughing again. I made a note to stop doing that lest it become a habit. A constantly giggling professor is _so _undignified. And no, the times I was high on something or another _do not _count.

"Well, how am I supposed to dig out a bullet that's practically a _millimetre _away from my heart?"

He was starting to sound annoyed. And just then I noticed that his eyes were now a faint red-brown colour instead of their usual brown. So, the injections are already taking effect.

"You've made a point," I said, grinning manically. Oh, the anticipation of what was to come…

"…uh…Hojo…?"

"Surgery time!"

A half hour of UNaesthetic (I'm the king of puns! KING I tell you! Ahem), blood-curdling screams, and my favourite scalpel Bob later, Vincent sat up on the operating table glaring at me. And glaring. And glaring. And… well, you get the point.

"What do you want, Valentine?"

He took a while to answer.

"Where is Lucrecia? And what did you do to my arm? It's not working."

"I'm telling you… I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE IS," I yelled. How arrogant of him… as if _I'm _not (partially… alright, minimally) worried? "And as for your arm… we'll see."

I injected him with a drug that will make him fall asleep, and left to get some well-deserved sleep.

Or I would have, had I not been reduced to spending the whole night trying to put out a kitchen fire that Sephiroth started while I was away. Where did he learn…?

Jenova and I are going to have words. One day old babies do not know how to operate a stove without outside help. …and yes, the boy is just _that _advanced.

In the morning, I gave Sephiroth his injections (as well as some tranquilizer…Hehehe) and put him in his cot. He looked so sweet and innocent and _cute _and... And… well, bugger this. I was so exhausted that I made the mistake of consuming an unhealthy amount of caffeine again. What said caffeine made me do makes me cringe.

First, I skipped through town (yes, skipped), picking flowers and putting one in my hair, then giving some to a few children who were playing Cops and Robbers. (And I was briefly reminded of a… _different_ rendition of that game. Turks are so original… when it comes to _that_ at least). To make things worse, the flower I had chosen to put in my hair was yellow. _Yellow._ Yellow is so not me. Then, I walked into the weapons shop, requesting a chainsaw. I honestly didn't know _why _I had bought that chainsaw.

So then I skipped through town again, giggling like a fool, a yellow flower in my hair, and a chainsaw in my hands. I probably looked like a maniac. Parents were running out of their homes to round up their children, and any puppies and kittens and bunnies (never thought I'd pronounce those evil creatures' names) were _unfortunately_ disposed of. What? They were evil! They were looking at me with vehemence in their eyes!

When I eventually reached the labs, Vincent was awake and poking his immobile arm, muttering useless things such as, "Move, damnit," and, "O Lucrecia, why hast thou forsaken me?" And let's not forget, the classic: "Love, it consumes us all, such as pain never will…" …and other such crap.

I hopped up to him, and ignoring his protests, flung him down onto the operating table, giving Jenova a mock-salute as I did so.

_This I have _got _to see, _I heard her say.

"Hojo, what are you doing now? Where are your glasses? Why is there a flower in your hair? ...Where's Lucrecia?"

"You ask too many questions," I remarked, "As for the flower, you can have it."

"How sweet of you," he said sarcastically, taking the useless plant.

"Hang on…" I started up the electric chainsaw. "There we are…"

"What is…? OH GOD, THE PAIN! HOJO, I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND…!"

I laughed _despite _my resolution not to do so.

When I snapped out of my caffeine high an hour later, it was to see a left arm-less Vincent, who was miraculously still alive because of the Jenova and monsters in him.

"You bastard," he said, weak. He looked like he could hardly move.

"Hehehehehehehe. Now to find you a nice prosthetic."

"Why are you doing this?"

I thought deeply before answering. Was it for revenge for him stealing my wife? Was it out of jealousy? Love? Some ulterior motive that isn't apparent to anyone, save Jenova, yet? Was it for me to test my creative boundaries when it came to science? Or was it something entirely different, something deeper? At the time, it was only for one reason.

"Hehehehehehe. It's fun. Heh. Heh."

I was greeted with silence.

"You are doing all of this because it's fun?" he eventually said with disbelief.

"…"

"…"

"Yes. Now shut up and sit still while I figure out where to get you a prosthetic."

"I'm hungry."

"And food, too."

As I rooted though the spare parts in the local pile of metal garbage, I couldn't help but think.

_It was such a lovely arm, too. Oh well._

_I wonder what Sephiroth's doing._

_Food._

…and other such intellectual thoughts. I found something that looked like a cross between a Zu leg and Freddy Krueger, and went to the nearest restaurant, a sushi bar, not caring that the patrons were giving me odd looks.

The villagers must think I'm insane by now. First the chainsaw, now A Claw. Well, you can't please everyone.

Though how anyone who actually knows me can think of me as insane is beyond me.

"Two portions of sushi for take-away." I demanded.

"Comin' right up. Though you could at least say please," the barman, a surly-looking man, grumbled.

"Oh, the youth of today," an old woman sitting at the counter said condescendingly.

However, I was too glad to be offended. Young? Me? Hehehehe. I must be retaining my ravishing good looks, aging gracefully and… don't look at me like that. No, seriously, what's so funny?

Anyway. I took the sushi back to the Mansion, fantasizing about a romantic halogen lamp-lit, 10 gil dinner under the stars (or rather, the omniscience of Jenova) with Vincent, and was greeted by the pleasant sight of blood everywhere.

"Vinc- Valentine. As nice as the décor is…"

"I was hungry."

"YOU ARE NOT A VAMPIRE!"

"A voice in my head told me to do it. He was very nice about it, actually. Called himself Galian-"

"Shut up and eat your sushi."

And so we spent dinner in what some would call a deadly silence, punctuated by Vincent almost choking several times whenever I nudged him with my foot. The man acts as if he's never been the recipient of footsie before… unappreciative git. See if I have dinner with _him _again!

When I eventually got back to the apartment, I found that everything was covered in three inches of water. Apparently Sephiroth turned on the tap and didn't switch it off. And no, I do not know how he reached the tap.

…GAH, now I have to spend the night cleaning.

Things are just _not _going my way lately. I'm starting to get fed up. Really fed up.

Now Sephiroth is screaming because _he's _hungry.

Damn. Damn it all. How is a man supposed to keep his sanity around here? How!

Oh yeah, I need to operate on Vincent tomorrow. Hehehehe. Fun, fun…

A/N: Hojo is twisted. Like you didn't know that. As usual, please review! Your reviews keep me sane and un-Hojo-like!


	10. Day X

Disclaimer: This is starting to get annoying… Don't own.

A/N: www(dot)youtube(dot)com(slash)watch?vRs5NRfZJLkY&searchHOJO -watch it and you are guaranteed to laugh your arse off. Eighteen second video (not mine!) that goes well as a side-dish with Memoirs of a Genius. Be warned, for you may be tempted to click on other stuff by the same poster that contain DoC spoilers… which I am proud of my self-control for avoiding.

**Memoirs of a Genius **

**Day X **

…Just got a telephone call from Gast. Just like him to phone at 4.30 AM. I am expected to be back in Midgar in three days with the notes and Sephiroth. I asked what to do with Jenova, and he said, seal her in the reactor.

She is not going to be happy about _that. _Though the idea of having a Mako reactor entirely at my disposal has its merits… maybe I could use it for later experiments…

ANYWAY. Vinnie's (oh, how I have reduced myself) surgery was today. It was a nice bonding time for me and Sephiroth- I even bothered to sort out my hair. When did it get this long…? So, I took Sephiroth and went down to the labs to see a sulking Vincent staring at Jenova. He turned away from the tank (_Damn, that man has booty! _I heard Jenova say and, disturbingly, found myself agreeing), looked at Sephiroth, The Claw in my hands, and then finally at me.

"I won't even bother asking," he said.

"Good."

Sephiroth toddled up to Vincent, looking confused. He pointed to his left arm and then looked at Vincent.

"Oh, don't worry, Daddy's gonna fix the man's arm," I told Sephiroth, who merely shrugged and walked- wait, since when can he _walk?_-over to Jenova, pressing his face against the glass.

"Since when was it 'Daddy'?" Vincent asked me, ostensibly to distract me as I moved toward him with a needle and The Claw, but really just to keep his own peace of mind… or lack of, because both Jenova and I have excellent wit.

"It always was Daddy to you, Valentine," I said, displaying said wit. Jenova giggled.

Sephiroth sat down on the floor, staring at Vincent again.

"Um… good boy," Vincent said.

"Let's get this started, I don't want to put it off any longer," I said. Jenova giggled _again._

_You have a very prurient mind, do you know that? _I 'thought' at her through the Jenova Cell Connection… I should get that patented.

"_So do you, O Deviant One," _she replied.

"OK, missing an arm is annoying," Vincent said, oblivious to the quarrel that was going on inside my head.

"…what are you waiting for?"

"Anaesthetics."

"Valentine. I am disappointed in you. Surely you must know me by now?"

At that I seized him with a strength that was courtesy of my injections, and slammed him down onto the operating table. I was briefly reminded of a similar instance. But never mind.

"Hojo, not that again…."

"Hehehehehe…"

"OW, FUCK! AHHH! FUCK!"

…And so on and so forth for the next hour and a half. Sephiroth even helped me a bit by passing me some of the required tools and spare parts needed for the operation, occasionally making the sounds that children make when presented with something aesthetically pleasing, in this instance blood. Not that the walls weren't _already_ covered with Vincent's blood…

When I was finished, I told Vincent, "See that wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"…"

He stared at the ceiling, and I noticed that his eyes were now red. The kind of red that people would refer to as 'a blood-chilling, unnatural crimson', 'merciless orbs (GAH, I hate that… EYES, not ORBS!) reflecting the pits of hell', or 'the mark of a killer'. Foolish mortals. I just think they're sexy.

…Did I just admit that? Moving swiftly on.

"Fuck."

"Valentine, you swore enough in front of my pure, innocent baby today, don't you think that's enough?"

He looked at me, tired from the pain. To make a point, I only discovered that pain is supposed to be bad when I started my medical training… personally, I don't see what's wrong with it, in moderation… my standards of moderation. And don't get me started on the kicks I get from performing operations like the one I did today.

"I didn't say anything," he eventually found the strength to say.

We glared for each other for a bit.

"Then who, pray tell-"

"Fuck."

"Vincent Valentine, I swear to the Theory of Relativity that…"

"That what?" he smirked. GAH, that smirk. As if teaching a baby a profanity as its first word is something to be proud of.

"…Just leave it."

"I'm just too fun to have around, aren't I?"

"I said leave it!"

"Fuck," Sephiroth said again, to Jenova this time. Lucrecia would be so proud. Ha. Ha. Ha.

My patience wearing thin, I glared at a now fully-formed (if you can call that metal thing a limb) Vincent again, scooped Sephiroth up in my arms, and went back to my apartment, leaving the Turk to the mercy of Jenova… actually, he should hear her in his head by now.

I gave both Sephiroth and myself Jenova injections, watched a rather pointless tennis game that ended 6-0 6-0 6-0, uselessly tried to stop Sephiroth from saying that awful word all the time, and, not being able to bear any more seconds away from my dearly beloved (labs, that is. I'm not dependent on anyone, you hear? NOT Jenova, NOT Vincent, NOBODY!) went back to the mansion. Sephiroth had thankfully fallen asleep and so was not in any condition to kill anything.

When I unlocked the door, it was to see Jenova and Vincent in deep discussion. I eavesdropped on them for a bit.

"_A complete state of detachment is not, contrary to popular belief, independence. Neither is it insanity. It is genius- one can be insane in the use or possession of advanced knowledge- it is, in fact necessary to be lacking in sanity in order to fully comprehend the knowledge you're given- but not the other way round. You cannot achieve greatness if you were lacking the foundation of natural eccentricity. Insanity without genius is nothing- pitiful, actually. Genius with insanity… now that is something commendable. Genius can make you feel as if you were of another race- but then, detachment is still just a concept- what about all those other geniuses that are in the same position and of the same opinion as you?" _

"I don't know. I always thought that detachment is looking in the mirror, and suddenly feeling that the face you see could belong to anyone, that the words you speak could mean anything- that the very existence of everything around you, for all you know, could be just as insubstantial as a dream. Isn't it? I mean, what if there is no such thing as genius, or insanity, and they are all just as blurry a concept as detachment? Really, there is more than meets the eye than the surface. This metal arm… what makes it different from my natural arm if it serves the same purpose? Maybe we are all just here to be used, abused, and eventually discarded, like that arm I once had…"

I found myself with a renewed respect for the Turk, as well as some stimulation to my hubris. To think that _I _was the cause and inspiration of such thoughts!

"Hello, darlings, what are you do- ah." I announced myself and stopped mid-step at the sight of what I could now properly distinguish at closer range.

They were both _high._

Apparently Vincent found some chemicals which can be mixed to make a kind of depressant drug- not anything recreational that you can get from the Midgar slums, for example. It was something that the Turks had come up with (Vincent and Veld, I bet. Those two are dangerous as comrades) that they could use when no money for beer, nicotine, or other drugs was available. Quite pathetic, really.

So, Vincent had injected it into himself, and then into one of the IVs leading into Jenova's tank. Knowing Jenova, I am willing to wager that she'd made the suggestion in the first place.

"Hojo, why don't you join us?"

_Yeah, come on! _

I looked at my watch. Eleven PM. Why not.

"Sure, it could do no harm…"

Famous last words. It is now five AM, and I am in my apartment, confused as all hell because I had forgotten that the drug caused the user to simply not remember anything that had been done while it was in the user's system.

Frankly, I prefer not to know. And despite my being non-pious, I pray to ALL the gods that nobody used the machine that had been lying around, a recent invention of mine. I call it the camcorder. It records images on film, but not like the materia used for television. (Though I hope it will be as widely distributed as to be used for these purposes someday.) There is another similar one in Icicle Inn.

…I really, really, hope nobody used it. In any case, I'm not even going to check.

Good night.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

Almost got a heart-attack as I realized first-hand that Sephiroth's eyes glow in the dark.

…

…Only three more days…

I wonder if I will miss all of this…. Probably not, but still..

GAH!

A/N: A slightly more serious tone in this one (hence the funny video); I wanted to show that despite the lack of worry or empathy Hojo has about the psychological consequences of torture ("You are a puppet and cannot feel any pain"... familiar?), he still realizes on some level that he'd managed to royally screw up Vincent...

Please review! I appreciate reviews very much.


	11. Day XI

Disclaimer: Don't own.

**Memoirs of a Genius**

Jenova, having nothing better to do, was at rest. Her normally ten-mile-per-minute-mind was shut off in what humans would call 'sleep', for once. The previous night had been very tiring… who knew the humans could come up with such substances?

The only things to get intoxicated on in her home planetwere things like hunting. She liked her planet for its simplicity, but didn't care much for the stupid, instinctual beings that were its' inhabitants. She'd always been the smartest, and had been worshipped as an Oracle… that is, until another semi-intellectual alien got fed up and dumped her on to the next rock that had strayed from the asteroid belt.

_Now, _she thought bitterly, _I have gone from revered, to floating in formaldehyde. Great._

But she had to admit that she was lucky to have found a species that could at least understand her… humans certainly were an improvement from drooling idiots whose only interest was killing and eating Splorgs. And mating. Though, as she came to understand, mating was something the species here were obsessed with too.

One thing she was yet to understand, though, was why no one had blue skin here, why no one could randomly turn into a different form, or why nobody else constantly got their gender mixed up. The Ancients had called her a 'him', the humans called her a 'her', and Hojo just called her whatever he felt like (which was usually something not suitable for young ears). But Sephiroth- that cute little thing! - he called her 'mama'.

She could hear voices now.

"Hojo, what- oh, god no."

"Don't worry, it will all be over soon… Hehehe."

Jenova just waved it aside and tried to continue her sleep. She wouldn't bother to 'wake up' for their sake. She heard some heavy breathing.

"Hojo!"

"Hehehehehe."

"No!"

She was getting annoyed now. What was a girl to do to get some beauty sleep?

"Hehehehehe…"

"Hojo…"

She could feel the chemicals around her get slightly hotter in temperature.

"SWALLOW IT!"

Her mind's eyes widened at that.

"NO, it tastes weird!"

"JUST DO IT!"

Jenova couldn't take it anymore.

"_What in the name of my lovely skin are you doing?"_

She didn't want to open her eyes if she could help it.

"Nothing," Hojo said innocently.

She was curious now. Fully awakening, she sighed in relief. Hojo was just trying to force a spoon of some substance or another-it looked like mako, but she could be wrong- down Vincent's throat.

"What did you think?"

"_Nothing, go on…"_

Jenova looked at her silvery hair through her mind's eye.

_Those substances are playing havoc with my split ends…_

**Day XI**

I am regretting my choice to tell Sephiroth about the therapeutic technique of acupuncture. I almost lost an eye because of a toothpick and a toddler. I wonder what a Freudian would have to say about _that_.

When I made it back to the labs this afternoon, Vincent was staring at the wall. He was really, really, dirty by now, what with not changing that suit in… whatever, ages. I do not know what drove me to do what I did next.

"Valentine, get up. We're going shopping."

Hey, I like aesthetic quality, alright? Luckily, Jenova appeared to be sleeping… something I only know because she hasn't said anything since last night. A miracle. And if she was awake, she'd be laughing her arse (for lack of better term) off.

Vincent didn't say anything, but obediently followed me down to the village. This silence disturbed me. I wanted to make him suffer, not to make him so submissive… no double entendre intended, perverts.

The villagers were by now wary of me. So to see a really tall, wasted-looking man with a claw following a confused-looking me didn't bother them in the least. I think.

Not knowing where to go- last time I went shopping was ages ago, with Lucrecia and my new Shinra credit-card- I just walked into the closest boutique.

"May I help you?" the quintessential anorexic woman at the register asked me, her forced smile brightening when she saw Vincent.

Amazing. Women are attracted to him even as a monster. I should investigate that.

"No," I said quickly. "Just…" what was the word? "Browsing," yes, that's it!

"Ah, alright then!"

Shop employees are annoying. What is there to be so happy about?

Vincent looked at me funny.

"If you dare ask me a question, which is all you've been doing for the past week, then I promise you that it'll be your other arm."

Vincent shrugged and walked to the rack that contained the most black garments.

I waited as Vincent chose some things, and went off to change.

When he came out, any conviction I had that the man was sane went down the drain. He emerged wearing a black top, tight black leather trousers (hehe), ridiculous pointed boots… and to top it all off, a long, red cape.

"Why are you dressed like a vampire from a trashy horror novel?"

"I like it."

"…Fine."

We went to the register to pay.

"My treat," I said, ignoring the clerk as she tried to slip Vincent her phone number. She stopped when I took out my wallet.

"Oh," she gasped. "Like, OMIGOD!"

"What is it, woman?" I asked, handing over the money… which was 100 gil. The small amount was not surprising, actually. What _is _surprising is Vincent's cheap taste in clothes.

"Like, am I on TV? HI MOM!"

"Why would you be on television?"

"You mean," she said, looking crestfallen, "This isn't Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?"

I took my receipt and ran out of the shop, dragging Vincent after me.

"Call me, baby!" I heard the clerk say.

Back at the labs, Vincent was practicing his model strut… well, at least that was what it looked like. Actually, I am pretty sure he was pacing. Whatever.

"Why so quiet, Valentine?"

"…"

"Hm?"

"…Can sins ever be forgiven?"

I groaned. I wanted _broken_, not angsting-philosophical-pseudo-religious-psycho.

"I wouldn't know, Valentine."

"…uh, Hojo, I feel weird…"

Probably just another impulse of hi- GOOD DA-CHAO, WHAT IS THAT?

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Well. I am now officially a genius, in case it wasn't clear enough before.

So, Vincent started breathing heavily and growing in size, his skin turning purple. I knew that something bad would happen unless I subdued him, so after some chasing I managed to jab him with a tranquiliser. He turned back to normal, and I tried to force-feed him a solution I'd prepared just for this situation- I like to be prepared. The solution would prevent him from transforming, for now.

I was met with some resistance, and Jenova woke up in the process, but it was worth it.

You know why?

I, Professor Victor Hojo, am a genius.

…No, Jenova, the monsters were my idea, not yours. Don't ruin my moment of glory.

MY idea. Mine I tell you!

This is the genius, over and out. Even super-beings get tired… and thankfully, Sephiroth caused no mini-natural disasters today.

Hehehehe.

A/N: So, who did I catch out with the beginning part:laughs evilly: And as for the 'can sins be forgiven' line, NOW you know why Vincent smirked when Cloud asked him that at the Forgotten Capital… Please review!


	12. Day XII

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Damn.

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day XII**

I was starting to pack stuff away at the labs… with no distractions, thankfully, Vincent was (and probably still is) asleep on that operating table, and Jenova isn't speaking to me because of the move.

_You can't just take some of my cells, stick me in some reactor and forget all about me! _She said. Yeah, like that's possible.

Where was I? Yeah, I was packing things away, and to my surprise, when I opened one closet a mass of corpses tumbled out. After carving my initials onto their chests with Bob the scalpel- because all artists must sign their work- I remembered that those were the ones that were overexposed to Jenova and Mako before the idea of Sephiroth came along. How… unfortunate.

So then I got the idea… what would happen to these human corpses if I exposed them to even more Mako?

And then it came to me! (…no, not the Spirit of Christmas Past.) I would turn it into a peace offering to Jenova… if I stick those corpses in Mako pods in the reactor with her, they'll keep her entertained!

Oh, I slay me.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Done packing. The lowly Shinra lackeys can do the rest of the job now. Watching them move Jenova will probably be very… _interesting_.

"Prof, Mama say Proffie is bastard."

…Just WHAT is Jenova teaching Sephiroth?

_OoOoOoOoOo_

I just realised that no-one can know that I am Sephiroth's father. Heck, I'd be laughed out of the Shinra building. Where do I keep him then?

Whatever, I'll sign him off to Shinra. I'll be able to keep tabs on him anyway. And Gast too… damn, Gast knows.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Am very depressed. I can't kill Gast. I just sat here for an hour, scheming, and I CAN'T KILL HIM!

No, I am not having moral issues. And this time, I am _definitely _not in denial. No Gast, no easy access to Cetra child. I want a nice Cetra family to experiment on… Cetras are kewl.

The President wants them in order to find the Promised Land. I don't know what part Sephiroth has in this, other than that… but I know it's useless, as Jenova is not a Cetra.

Then why did I spend time on this project, you ask? Well, if Jenova is not a Cetra, I'd like to be the first to be enlightened enough to find out _what _she is… alright, if I am found out, I'm dead.

So I wonder what they will do with Sephiroth when this minor titbit of information gets out? I recall the President saying something about a super-powerful army.

That man is full of fantastical notions. Promised Land… how ridiculous. When I first heard that, I laughed. Seriously. The President looked at me as if I was crazy, but he would be laughing too if he'd read Lucrecia's books.

Apparently, the Promised Land is rather common in erotic fiction. Hehehehehe.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Why am I so scatter-brained today? Probably because I've upped my dose of Jenova.

I seriously cannot fathom how people think that I am in love with her. If they think that, they clearly don't know her. She's insane.

GAH, PHS. Damned Mako-enhanced hearing.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

It was my brother. Yes, I have a brother. I try to pretend he does not exist, but unfortunately he does. In Wutai, too, so he's pretty easy to ignore.

He had some good news for me.

"Hey yo, bro."

"Hello, Thomas. You sound happy."

"It's Tommy, yo, numero uno gangster…o. How's it flyin'?"

"It is flying at constant speed. You know, with equal air pressure and up thrust?"

"Heh, up thrust… Whatever man…You still married to that hot chick?"

"No, she left."

"Cool. Anyway. Mom died."

"Oh, that's too bad. What of?"

"Syphilis."

"What a SLUT, who dies of SYPHILIS anymore?"

"She does. When you comin' to celebrate, homie?"

"I'll be there in two days. I'll take time off from work."

"Cool. Later, cat."

"Yes, felis domesticus catus, a member of-"

BEEEEEEEP!

"HEY!"

…needless to say, my brother is not all there. But he's interesting to observe as a subject of what happens when one decides to adopt irregular mannerisms typical to a different community.

OK, so I may enjoy his company a bit too. But don't tell anyone that I said that.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

I got another call on my PHS. And a rather peculiar one, too.

"Hello, is this Nibel-Ham Pizza?"

"No, this is Professor Vi… Lucrecia?"

"Oh, DAMN. I mean…erm…wrong number!"

How strange that I cannot bring myself to care.

Hehehehehe. Hehe. He.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Bored, I am soooo bored. Sephiroth is asleep, so I can't teach him any physics, Jenova, in her reactor, is being childish, and Vincent is asleep, and therefore not in any condition for any… entertainment.

Don't look at me like that.

GAH, my hair won't stay out of my face, it's-

Ah.

Hair.

Pretty hair… or at least, it's going to be.

I am aware that mainly women do this when they're bored, but… I think a visit to the barber's may be in order.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Oh, I feel so pretty.

I ended up going to one of those 'posh' places… what, I have gil to spare… so after having to wait for something like AN HOUR AND A HALF for those pretentious oh-we-are-_such­-_posh-hairdressers (I said it, there) to get a free space, a young woman who was working there came up to me.

"So, Sir, what will you be- WOAH."

"What is it, girl?"

"Your hair…"

"What about it?"

Just for the record, I have noticed that any teenage woman in any kind of service industry likes making an idiot of herself. At least where I am concerned.

…Do I really have that effect on people?

"It's so…so…looooong…" she said. Yes, definite idiot.

So after suffering several thermal-based products and strange smelling shampoo, not to mention getting funny looks from other women, I emerged WITH PRETTY HAIR!

_OoOoOoOoOo_

It just occurred to me that I may have been getting funny looks because those other women thought that I was a woman too at first.

Whatever. I must obey the metrosexual in me. Only thatI draw the line at wearing mascara.

Off to see Vincent. He should be waking up now… pretty nocturnal thing that he is.

Hehehehehe. I should stop writing my laughter in. It is an unusual thing to do.

Ah, screw it.

A/N: I apologize for this sad excuse of an update. Please review anyway, oui? I thrive on reviews…


	13. Day XIII

Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own. It.

A/N: This is the part where I go, "oops soz no update I was kidnapped by Interpol for tax evasion/ laptop died/ granny died/ had nervous breakdown due to rare kind of a rare branch of psychosis LMAO." But I am allergic to bullshit, and I bet you are too. So let's get on with it.

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day XIII**

Well. Vincent seemed to like my hair. Smart man…

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Ha. HA. HAAAA. Am finally, _finally_ back in Midgar. Though my time in Nibelheim was certainly… educational. And I even managed to smuggle Valentine to my labs in a crate with air-holes punched in. It went something like this:

"Thank God you're leaving," he said. Rambling ensues.

I interrupt him with, "No, actually, you're coming with me. You need to spend some time in a Mako pod to stabilize your powers."

Cue Vincent whining, me sedating him, and later on, sticking him in a tank in the back of the labs in Midgar.

Am not worried of being caught, because the back is _my _part of the labs. No-one dared go there since that time during a meeting when I told everyone that in my spare time, I contribute to research by collecting corpses and dissecting them over there. It had the desired effect, let me tell you.

No, but really, it's amazing what you can find out by analyzing dead things. This one man made the stupid mistake of swallowing simple acetylsalicylate (aspirin, for the layman) with Diet Coke, and next moment, POOF! He was going into _rigor mortis._

I just wish I was there to see it.

…Actually, think it was this particular anecdote that made all the lab assistants be wary of me. Ho hum.

Oh, oh, and it was _hell _with Jenova. She's giving me The Silent Treatment. I still have techs working on her residence in the Nibelheim reactor, in fact. In an attempt to make it up to Jenova (_not _ass-kissing) I quickly designed a tank that will provide her with nutrition… sounds typical, but, wait for it… in the shape of an angel.

How adorable, right? Very sapphic.

Or is the correct word seraphic? Whatever.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Haven't seen Gast yet. The coward is probably avoiding me until we have to go to see Mr. Neurotic (ie the President). Well, Ifalna said as much when I bumped into her.

"AAAAHH- um, ah, Professor Hojo, nice to see you nice and safe back from Nibelheim…"

I can actually understand what Gast sees in her. V. pretty lady, and she actually bothers to call me Professor. You don't see that every day.

"Nice to hear that," I said.

"Sorry about Lucrecia's passing away…"

Now, I could either choose a) correct her in usual scientific way and inform her that Lucrecia is alive, as far as I know, or b) bask in the attention I have been seriously lacking from the _opposite _sex lately. Not that I'm compensating for anything.

…What would _you _choose?

"Oh, yes, it was _most_ terrible, she was the light of my life," I said, hoping that I sounded convincing.

Apparently I did, because she said, "I wish _my _husband would talk like that about me…"

I saw an opening. "If I may ask, where _is _Professor Gast?"

She blinked. "In the labs, didn't you see him?"

Oh, that slimy toad. Hiding from me. Hmph.

Bade her farewell (I love how that sounds, so wonderfully dramatic) and walked off to have a coffee or ten.

…And now, I am really looking forward to experimenting on the Ancient. I just have to wait a few years or so for her to get pregnant.

Unless she's one of those bloody career women who decide to have kids just before menopause.

Knowing my luck, she is.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Was just having fifth cup of coffee, wiling away the minutes until I have to go see Mr. N (twenty) when I had _another_ phone call from Lucrecia.

All I heard at first was sniffles, like she was crying or something. Then, "YOU BASTARD, I'M SENDING A LAWYER OVER TO YOU WITH DIVORCE PAPERS, WHICH YOU'D BLOODY WELL SIGN!"

Ow. My ear. "What did _I _do?"

"Don't. Give. Me. That. You. Freaking. Adulterer."

I smirked, before remembering that she wouldn't be able to see it. "So what does that make _you, _Lucrecia dearest?"

"I don't know what you mean," she said snootily. "Anyway, not that it changes anything, but WHO WAS IT?"

Almost went into hysterics at the irony of the situation, but decided against it. "You go first."

"Why-? Fine, whatever, it was the Turk," she sighed.

It wasn't as if I didn't know this, but it was still painful to hear it from her.

"Who was it with you, Victor?" she said in that tone that, while being soft, implies thumbscrews. "Hmmm? I just _know _there was someone else…"

Is this a double standard, I wonder? So it's alright for _her _to be screwing someone else…

"Who was it, huh?" she went on, "The barmaid? That pretty lab assistant? Lockhart's wife? The beau-"

"It was Valentine, OK?"

Pause.

"And about that lawyer, Lu… you can't do anything, because legally, you're dead. Which technically means that we're separated. Is that enough for you?"

"…Yes."

"I won't say anything about you being alive so long as you keep equally schtum."

"Agreed."

"…It's the Jenova cells, isn't it? They won't let you die…" I said, deciding to clear up a theory or two while I was at it.

"…You knew?"

"I do now," I said, smirking again. I had practically single-handedly solved the secret of immortality. I'm the best thing since Nicholas Flamel. Hahaha, he's _nothing _compared to me.

Only, I will keep it secret. I don't want people flocking to me, now.

"Oh, and Victor?" Lucrecia said, finally in a more relaxed state.

"Yes, Lu dearest?"

"…Give the Turk _hell_ from me."

"Will do."

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Stupid, boring meeting with stupid, boring, people.

Seriously, all people with an IQ below 145 should commit mass suicide. They may as well be drooling.

Only good that came out of the whole thing is that I got to see Gast giving me and my shiny hair a frightened glance, and that I got a pay raise and had my request of a few day's leave accepted. (Due to a, ahem, family tragedy. Wutai, here I come. Bah)

And that I signed Sephiroth to Shinra, but that is hardly significant because the lab assistants have been performing some minor experiments on him ever since we got here.

Right after the stupidity was over, I gave Gast The Glare. He looked like he was about to faint. HA. Owned.

Checked on Vincent, too. He's nicely catatonic and floating in Mako.

…I'm in serious trouble if Veld decides to waltz in. I'm not sure if he's intimidated by my experiments. I'm lucky Vincent's Mako tube is nicely hidden from view at the back…

Damn. Helicopter to Wutai leaves in ten minutes. Damn.

And off I go.

A/N: It gets better soon, honest. This chapter was just such a _bleep _to write.


	14. Day XIV

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Now attempting to write longer chapters, key word here being 'attempting'. I only just realised that it's a good idea to give a warning about this story, though if you're still reading, I guess it's pretty pointless: violence, innuendo, and language. If there are typos or things like that in this chapter it's because I'm on a time limit.

PS For those of you who didn't know, Veld was the leader of the Turks before Tseng.

**Memoirs of a Genius **

**Day XIV **

Incompetent helicopter pilot decided to take the long way over to Wutai: via the Gold Saucer and Rocket Town. Just what I need; two minutes of so much as having an ocular sense in the Gold Saucer is enough to make a man go blind. Not to mention that annoying music. Think I read in the paper about some woman committing suicide because of said music once.

Interesting.

…My brother had better well prepare a _hell _of a party- I mean, funeral, after all of this.

Not that I'm whining, or anything. It goes against my code of self-respect.

Which, for some reason, reminds me of me panicking just before I had to get on this stupid helicopter… I couldn't leave my pet project just like that.

I drained his Mako tank, the said, "Quick, put this on," handing him a long blonde wig before he could re-coordinate himself to his surroundings.

Never mind from where I have the wig, mmmkay? Let's just say that Lucrecia liked dress-up.

"…W-what?"

Again with his whiny questions.

"As a disguise!"

…Just for my justification, it was the best disguise I had on hand at the moment. Blame it on fear of discovery, or rather, fear of seeing Veld going into a jealous hissy fit of rage.

That Valentine sure gets around.

Vincent looked like he was about to go into a fit himself, but put the effeminate wig on anyway.

"Now, _Professor, _what is the use of disguising myself as a girl if _I am floating in a Mako tank stark naked?_"

For once, he had outstripped me. Stop, I know what you're thinking; I meant outstripped as in _mentally_. Gah.

"Product of a sex change operation?" I suggested. "Whatever, it's not as if anyone cares about you, so get back in there, you useless excuse of a… whatever."

"What about the 'S' word? Mako hurts…"

"…I am afraid there is no time for _that _now… and I _know _Mako hurts."

"…"

"…"

"…I meant sedation…"

"...Oh. Of course, but just to shut you the hell up."

YOU SEE? You see what pure idiocy I have to put up with _all day?_ It doesn't help that he's getting incredibly passive-aggressive, and even whinier than usual. Not to mention pathetic- wait, even _more _pathetic.

And I _still _don't understand why everyone is in lust with that man. Granted, he's fun to, ahem, abuse, but-

Oh snap. Did I just admit that?

…Just… forget it, all right?

Right.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

Now, I am a man who has already achieved much, and who, despite being relatively young, feels _old._ Therefore it is logical to conclude that not many things scare me, and those of them that do, don't actually bother me that much, because I somehow manage to scare _them _equally as much. You know, action and reaction, and all of that.

The Gold Saucer is one of those things.

So when the pilot informed me that we would have to stop at the Gold Saucer to refuel, and that it would save time by making the stop at Rocket Town superfluous, I lost what little colour I had…

I think the pilot just wanted to throw me off to make me stop ranting about Sephiroth to myself- not to pilot, because he's an inferior creature.

Just to note, I have an excuse to talk about Sephiroth, as parents do: he's my number one project. Surely it would be odd if I did not? How brilliant of me… now no one can be suspicious of paternal connection.

Must go. Being practically kicked off helicopter.

…Next test subject: Random Helicopter Pilot.

Hehehehe.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

Lucrecia would have been proud.

As I got off the helicopter, I spent five minutes trying not to have a seizure due to the crazy music, bright colours, and the sheer _gaudiness _of the place, when I suddenly recalled one of Lucrecia's philosophies:

"_Take a deep breath, relax, and channel your energy into something productive. Inhale, exhale. Good. Achieve a sense of self-awareness. Tap into your id. Unleash your inner desires…" _

Granted, she probably would have not wanted me to sneak up on a mascot, gag him, gather some children, and play a fun match of 'who-can-pistolwhip-the-chocobo-the-hardest-without-making-his-head-implode' before getting bored and letting the children take over the game, who looked like they liked it. I'm good with children. Besides, they're fun to scare.

Who knew that some crackpot philosophy from a book called _'Doctors on Top: a Full Guide to Anatomy' _could actually turn out so well? Actually, not so surprising as I had combined it with the simple action-reaction equation. But then again, so did the book, but in significantly more disturbing variations.

Spent remaining two hours at the Gold Saucer scaring small children even more, shooting some of the speakerphones, and being hit on by a man who was either homosexual or who had only seen my hair, which is, admittedly, effeminate. SUE ME.

Aside from that small and, hehehe, painful mishap (it took twenty five whole minutes to clean the blood off), I stepped on the helicopter satisfied.

It's at times like these where I am grateful for being under the jurisdiction of Shinra. I simply do _not _want to think what would be done to me (because of my hair) down in that prison. I feel violated just thinking about it. Ugh.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

When we eventually landed in Wutai after ten hours- 1600 hours Midgar time but 1100 hours Wutai time, damn jet lag- I was greeted by absolutely nothing or nobody. Not even a 'welcome home' sign. Not that I was expecting one, but still, I haven't been here since I left for Midgar University.

Was v. pissed off and considered strangling Random Helicopter Pilot using my hair (which I am _not _developing an obsession for), but decided against it because I needed him to fly me back- and I need to do some Incompetent Brain studies.

Hmmm, maybe I will make it a live, drug-free surgery. I don't think anyone has ever monitored a live brain before. And I will get to see how the body processes pain first hand, not through some monitor which mixes up pain signals with pleasure signals. At least, that's what it did when I tested the equipment on myself.

With that cheerful thought in mind, I set off to my father's house, trying to ignore the children pointing at my back and remarking on 'the lady's pretty hair'.

The worst thing off this whole deal is, I can't 'get into character', so to say, on anyone because I will the have to endure lecture from father on sadomasochism which I just _know _will turn around into embarrassing discussion about BDSM.

….Excuse me, I was experiencing mental images.

At least Jenova is still giving me The Silent Treatment. Thank… someone.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

Well, everything as usual with my father. When I walked in, he was sitting at the table, smoking and drinking sake while watching some documentary about the Great War of 40 years ago.

"…You came here to celebrate, didn't you, boy?"

I didn't know what to say to that. Went through familiar loop of going through code of respect, scrapping it, and remembering that Father did not much care for Mother anyway as she left him 7 years ago for another couple. Yes, you read that right. _Couple. _Actually that is something I have never tried…

…but that is besides the point.

"Yes."

"Now listen, Victor, your generation is the epitome of the start of the deterioration of Wutai, ever since the Great War… no respect for elders…. blablabla… moral decay… blablabla… dying economy… blablabla… gradual Easternization…blabla…"

When he starts, he never stops. All his rants are useful for is reminding me to change gil to yen.

He didn't even look up from his sake and was still ranting as I went to the adjacent house that was my brother's.

I didn't even have a chance to knock on the door and the chaos began: his cat leapt on my head, some Shinobi with pathetic aim hit me in the back with a training dart, a nearby Pekinese dog decided to hump my leg, and a random little girl ran up to me and pulled on my hair.

And I didn't even knock on the door yet.

It was in this embarrassing predicament that I heard my brother yelling, "HEY, WHAT'S THAT NOISE I'M HEARIN'?"

"I DUNNO, MAY BE SOMEONE AT THE DOOR," came a woman's voice.

"WELL, GO ANSWER IT, HO!"

"WHY ME? YOU DO IT, IT'S PROBABLY YOUR PRETENTIOUS, LOOK-AT-ME-I'M-A-SCIENTIST-WORKING-FOR-SHINRA PONCE OF A BROTHER!"

More yelling. More agonizing seconds of me standing there, being violated by a child, a dog, and a cat all at once. Finally, I heard loud footsteps, doors slamming, and even more yelling.

At last, Thomas opened the door. He was wearing a cap over a bandana, a sports jacket and top, jeans and a _lot _of gold: in short, the typical North Corelian stereotype, which I do not understand as very few of them actually embarrass themselves like that. The only thing stopping him from looking like a complete idiot was his complete lack of androgyny. Lucky bastard.

He took one look at me, laughed, and said, "WELL, look who's getting some action ALREADY! Come in, my homie, it's good to see you, man!"

"Hmph, so I finally get to meet the Traitor," a snooty-looking, scantily clad, somewhat attractive woman said.

"That's my girlfriend Chekhov," he explained to me. "She already has two kids, one of which you've… met."

Ah, the hair-pulling beast.

"…Whatever."

See, that's why I have never come back here. I've already made myself a poor enough reputation, what with renouncing Leviathan and pursuing a career in science, but what _really _pissed them off was that I went to work in the East. Going to Wutai now was a decision I only made because I didn't want the Shinobi out for my blood. It's a wonder they didn't come for me earlier, actually.

Being perceptive for once in his life, my brother stopped and looked at me.

"Come out to the back. We need to talk."

"Fine."

So much for being perceptive. He didn't even ask me how my journey was, if I needed to rest, etc. But that hardly matters as I can stay up for a week without getting too tired. Unless jet-lag is involved. Like now.

So imagine my surprise, when in the backyard was a shooting range.

"There, you look like you need it," he said, handing me a handgun and taking one for himself.

Finally, a chance to experience the Jenova-cells-in-relation-to-projectile-accuracy theory. I've even had plenty of practice on my beloved dartboard.

"So," Thomas started as he aimed for his target, holding his gun horizontally. "What's up in Shinra?"

"Nothing much, the usual," I lied, watching as he barely missed the outer ring.

"And Lucrecia? Oh yeah, she left you…" he fired a couple more bullets and missed. Eventually, he lowered his arm and turned to me. "All BS aside, how about you? What's up with _you, _Vicky?"

Now, _this _is why I hate my name. Wondering for the umpteenth time why I had not commited fratricide yet, I just said, "The usual."

"Uh huh. You expect me to believe that? We hardly hear from you unless _we _call _you_, you get rich and married and broken up and stuph, and you call that normal?"

"Wait until you hear about the other things I call normal," I muttered.

"What?"

"I said, aim normally and then you might hit something."

At this, 'Tommy' started fidgeting for some reason. "Actually, there is something…Wutai… you might have heard some stuff at Shinra…"

"I've been away on a business trip for over a year, I'm quite outdated on Shinra's Wutain affairs," I said absently, examining the gun I was given and realizing tat it was the same make and model as Valentine's. Gah.

"Well, there's some fishy stuff happenin' over here."

"Like what," I said, bored. Having a paranoid older brother is no fun.

"Well, more people are being recruited to Shinobi training, more people working for munitions, and there are more Materia being manufactured and grown…"

"So what are you implying? War?"

"I dunno, man…"

"Look, it's nothing," I tried to reassure him, something I don't try often. "There's going to be a huge build up, an arms race, propaganda, secret armies and all that, but nobody's going to do anything for fear of losing the proletariats' trust."

He sighed. "…Whatever you say. But you're going to have to decide: come back, or help the enemy to fight us and forsake your country. But know this: I believe in Wutai. I will stay here, and screw the consequences. "

I thought about it, but only for a few moments, and even then it was something along the lines of, "_w00t, our department's going to get a budget rise for making potentially lethal things."_ I didn't let myself think about my brother's naïve comment. In my opinion, patriotism is nothing but an excuse for cowards who need to depend on ideals to survive.

"Know what I _really _think?"

"What?"

In reply, I only aimed and fired at my target. When I ran out of ammo, I went back inside, smirking at my brother's cry of 'DOUBLE-YOU TEE EFF! THAT'S SOME BADASS STUPH!' as he examined the target and read the words the bullet-holes had formed in the paper.

'FUCK IT' was what it said.

It is _so _satisfying to suddenly be a good shot… And to be called 'bad ass'. I like that word. Hehehe.

Now, I must fight off my jet lag. Leave me alone.

A/N: Rant Alert!

Ok, to explain the East-West situation: in case you haven't guessed, I am outlining the FFVII universe's warfare using our own Terra's situation. There was a First War between Wutai and the East, which Wutai won, everyone gets PO'd and it gets all Cold War-like, and then there's the Shinra-Wutai war which we all know about. I think that way it gives Shinra more excuses to wage war on Wutai, because _how _stupid would they sound saying that they needed to fight to get materia? I think the people would buy into it more if Shinra said something about patriotism, national pride, etc. But that's just me.

Rant over. Please review!


	15. Day XV

Disclaimer: Don't own. Really.

**Memoirs of a Genius **

**Day XV **

****

Was just woken up at the crack of dawn (i.e. 9AM) by the sound of my door being violated… knocked on… kicked… Give me a break; I can barely see the page for the floating green triangles consuming bananas… and Bob. Bob likes you. Bob is my favourite scalpel and is extremely happy! Happy! HAPPY I TELL YOU!

Wait, what?

OoOoOoOoOo

I feel cheated.

The door-violator was 'Tommy'. He looked cheerful, which is a punishable offence for someone who is awake before midday and _doesn't drink coffee. _

So what does the criminal say?

"Get dressed cat, we're going to Da-Chao."

That should have been my first clue that not all was as it appeared. And I should have realised sooner, my passion and profession being what it is. (Science. For the more free-thinking of you. NOT hairdressing as my brother suggested. NOT prostitution like that Chekhov woman said. SCIENCE.) My second clue should have been the massive bag that Thomas was holding.

At my puzzled expression, all Thomas had to say was, "You have ten minutes, yer?"

Da-Chao? What could there possibly be on Da-Chao that is relevant? They never hold funerals on Da-Chao…

_OoOoOoOoOo _

I think ten years have been taken off my life.

When we got to the foot of the mountain, Thomas stopped and said, "Vicky baby, I wasn't tellin' ya something."

"Enlighten me."

He looked sheepish. "Mother was cremated, as she wanted to…"

"So… no funeral?" I said. Cue the 'feeling cheated' notion from earlier.

"Um…it said on her will…. Er…"

I started sweating, and not because of the heat. My mother's nickname hadn't been 'Wild Joker' for nothing.

"She said she wanted her two sons to climb Da-Chao, and…" he stopped abruptly.

"And…?"

"Release her ashes from highest peak," he finished lamely.

I really, _really _should have seen that that was not all there was to it.

"What about monsters?" was all that I could say.

"…I brought guns… and a katana…"

"Give me the katana. NOW."

So we travelled up Da-Chao, Thomas staring in awe as I showed off my new-found bad-assness with a katana, which I'm actually really good with (courtesy of Jenova cells, but who cares). Other than an instance where a crow thought that my hair was silver (SHINY) and almost scalped me, we got to the top unharmed.

The whole scenario made me think of Sephiroth for some reason. Most probably because I _am_ his baby-father. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, baby-father. Ahem.

So then I was just standing there, staring at Thomas. And the metaphorical bomb was dropped, though how I _wish _that it was in the literal sense too.

"So, where's the urn?" I asked naively.

Thomas said nothing, just took out a piece of paper which I could tell was mother's will.

"Let me read this…" he said, "AHEM… 'If you are reading this, it is highly likely that I am dead. Of course, this wouldn't be a will otherwise. And I'm pretty much screwed anyway, considering what I'm paying this lawyer. ANYWAY, I would like to donate all of the money that I leave behind to the Alcoholics Anonymous Association, my beer can collection to go to Thomas, and my make-up collection to go to my darling Victor (you can't hide anything from Mummy! You were always such a confused little boy) and…"

It continued in this manner for a while. I was stupefied. I was _never _a 'confused little boy'. It didn't help that Thomas said it all with a straight face either.

"…and as to what I would like to happen to my rotting, soon-to-be-maggot-ridden corpse, is, I would like to be cremated (PRETTY FIRE PRETTY), and my ashes to be released from Mt. Da-Chao… more specifically: I would like my two darling boys to release my ashes while parachuting off Mt. Da-Chao, to show that after death of the old, youth can spread it's wings. Adieu, adieu, adieu. PS My lawyer said this has to be more formal but I don't give a toss. PPS Vicky, _we know._"

At least now I knew what was in the huge bag. Parachutes.

"…"

"…"

"NO. WAY." I shouted. Now, I could analyse, moment by moment, the descent in a parachute, and deduce it to be safe, theoretically. Keyword: 'theoretically'. But I really didn't feel like doing it, not out of cowardice, but because mother deserves neither the title nor this final request.

"You will do it, Vicky!"

"THE OLD BI- um, she was _crazy_!"

"Don't talk about ma mama that way!"

"SHE'S MY MAMA TOO!"

"And _she knew. _And so do I."

"Knew what?"

Long story made short, after a catfight- I mean, honourable duel- I ended up being pushed off the mountain with no parachute. Luckily, I survived, and my mother's ashes were released by Thomas, who was floating gently down. It's lucky I landed on my feet, like a cat. To go with my pretty grey cat-pupil eyes, again, courtesy of Jenova. Meow.

Oh, the look on my brother's face when he saw that I had absolutely no injuries when I should have died.

Oh, my family adores me _so much_.

Life sucks.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

In my old bedroom, sulking and staring at my poster of my proof of Fermat's Last Theorem, the only proof that is absolutely correct. Because I am a genius who has posters made out of his work. Like Einstein.

And never mind that some other guys solved it too. I'm prettier. No offence. But really-

What was I saying? Ah, sulking. Yes.

Anyway, I'd just tried to make contact with Jenova, but she's still giving me The Silent Treatment. Oh, I hope she's taking her anger out on the specimens I provided for her. It should be a merry sight.

Hm, just thought of something. If everyone except me believes the Jenova-and-Sephiroth-are-Cetra-and-will-lead-us-to-the-Promised-Land bullshit, and if all _I _had a say in the notes were footnotes that had nothing to _do _with said bullshit. Which means that all the notes we have in Nibelheim are complete bullshit.

How disorderly. I could go down there and correct them…

…but then again, it's a result of Gast's idiocy and naïveté, so why should _I _be responsible? Things could have been different if I was the project leader. Yes, I am aware that those notes could cause serious misinformation in the Science Department, but once I am Head, that will no longer matter. Why, you ask?

I, Victor Hojo, know The Truth. I am the Enlightened One. I am on the top of the mountain of enlightenment. I am the puppeteer, my strings being my expertly-spun web of lies. Jenova is in my control. Sephiroth is in my control. The Universe's secrets are in my control. I am, like the old poem goes, _Fortuna Imperatrix mundi, _only I'm an _Imperator, _not an _Imperatrix_.

The Planet will tell me, "Has tibi symphonias plectrat sophus, Imperator," and I will laugh and say, "The scholars didn't make the melodies for me… they merely gave them to me after I ordered them to do it by threat of Death."

And I will laugh mercilessly, pitying their common souls, ridiculing their lack of previous faith in me, the God of Science, condemning them, making them suffer and… and… and…

…And I really need some coffee. Ho hum.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

Went downstairs for coffee. Thomas was there.

"Look, Vicky, sorry about earlier…"

"Forget it. Make coffee now and I may forgive you."

So he did, and later, we sat down in the 'living' room, if you can call it that, and had a chat.

"So, tell me something about you traitorous work, Vicky."

"You're interested, hm? Even though I'm a traitor?"

He looked uncomfortable at that. "Well, it was just… I was just asking, sheesh."

_Sheesh? _I ask you.

"Alright… so we found a top-secret thing which does top-secret things to other top-secret things with top-secret paternal units, which have top-secret knowledge for top-secret ulterior motives. And I do not have a superiority complex, despite what the voices may have once told me before having a bitch-fit."

He listened to all of this in silence. He took one look at my smug expression, and if this were an anime, he would have sweat-dropped. Not that I watch anime. Much.

"Vicky. Baby. You make no sense sometimes."

Amen.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

Why am I still here? I don't have to stay here. Think I'll leave tomorrow evening, as soon as I find the Incompetent Pilot, who is probably going to be hung-over but I don't care.

I really don't know why I've decided to stay here longer than what was required. All there is to do is talk to my brother, ignore my father, Chekhov, and the rest of the people, including Chekhov's kid, and _especially _the Shinobi- they don't like me very much- and sit in my room, thinking about my godly existence and looking at my scholarship-winning university application essay, which I'd made the mistake of sending here so that my parents could feel shame for trying to hold me back. My mother had held it at a ransom before she'd died. Now I can finally have it again.

In short, this sucks. I don't know why the Wutains hate me so much. Wait, actually I do. For several reasons:

- Renouncing my religion and my nationality in my search for knowledge, but I've mentioned that.

- Not making contact for ten years, except that time when I was tricked into thinking I'd forgotten my first-edition _Encyclopaedia Britannica's _there.

- That time with the party and the drinks and the Kisaragi princess, when I was eighteen. Which wasn't my fault at all, and it wasn't that big a deal. Ahem.

- The time when I was fourteen, and had doused myself in methylated spirit (which burns itself and nothing around it, at least until it had all completely been consumed), set myself alight, and ran, on fire, through the streets of Wutai. No harm done, except I had to do one _hell_ of a 'stop, drop n' roll', and from that day everyone thought I was some kind of banished god, scientifically oblivious plebeians that they were. And still are. (Maybe I should teach that trick to Sephiroth. May come in handy, you never know.)

- When I was seventeen, I had a phase when I was into blond hair dye and somewhat feminine (not sluttish, as Thomas pointed out) clothes. This was around the same time I got into the obligatory teenage black-magic phase, and more importantly, science. Unflattering rumours abound, especially when I created a language of my own to go with the look. Which I only ever spoke out loud once, when the light in my room went out. ("Scheisse, das Licht ist kaputt!") It would be funny if that language were widely spoken in an alternate universe.

Oh, good times, good times.

_OoOoOoOoOo _

Going to bed early. Angst.

…

I hate Lucrecia. I hate Vincent. I hate Jenova. I hate everything.

Angst. GAAAAAAH.

I wonder if this onset of said angst has anything to do with the fact that I've spent my adolescence between these walls, dissecting, or should I say, vivisecting, fluffy, cute, stray animals?

Probably. Going off to angst some more, because even though these eyes have seen hell, the id somehow retains the lost youth.

…I'm doing it again, aren't I?

A/N: And here we have chapter fifteen, and I'm actually happy with this one. Cookie to you if you've spotted the Hellsing manga reference: the paragraph about Hojo's blonde phase… Doc and Hojo have _got _to be related somehow. XD


	16. Day XVI

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Pardonnez-moi for the delay, I've been away doing stuff. Studying and such. Hojo has been away too- time jump, seven years. Anyway, on with the fic.

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day XVI- (almost seven years overdue, but who do you think I am? The tax man?)**

So. I was just locking up MY labs after a rewarding day's work, looking around at all of MY research proving all of MY theorems, when I happened upon this book. In Jenova's tank. I do not know what it was doing there, and frankly, I don't wish to know.

Anyway, looking through this document… I have certainly had an _interesting _youth, full of different experiences. Ahem. Yeah.

Sephiroth is almost seven years old now, but has intellectually developed to the level of a high school student already. He is such a valuable asset… and he kind of looks like me when I was his age. Except for the hair…

…Oh Science, what if I get grey hairs soon? Not good.

That Turk, who was only brought into my memory through reading this (and I was wondering what that blonde-wigged _thing _was doing floating in that tube in the back), boring thing that he is, is still comatose. I am considering dumping him somewhere. Nibelheim maybe. Not entirely sure yet.

And Gast… ran off with Ifalna. That is both a bad and good thing. Bad because Ifalna is a precious specimen who is pregnant with another precious specimen, and good because GAST, THAT BLOODY SOD, IS FINALLY GONE!!!! And I get to be Head of Science in Shinra… which is just… well, I'm not really surprised, seeing as I'm so amazing. Fat Man Shinra still believes in the Promised Land. Idiot. I basically run this company.

I've sent some search parties to look for the Gasts. Reports say that they are in Icicle Inn… which I'll probably go to, soon. Drop in on them, see how they're doing… make sure they're not well… Hehehehe.

Jenova just said that I'm starting to sound like I'm doing paperwork. She's been very quiet lately. I'm not sure what that indicates. Maybe that she's _confused_?

I just disgusted myself with the image of Jenova 'coming out'. And she just twitched her tentacles at me threateningly.

Off to do paperwork in MY office.

I love saying that.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Was just stopping off at the corner shop to buy me some fags- and if you are from Wutai and reading this, which you shouldn't be anyway, that means cigarettes, not… that- I overheard the woman at the cashier talking about something to another woman in hushed tones. Normally, I wouldn't have cared, but there was the fact that they were occasionally glancing at me. And the fact that the words "greatest…of all time… when she's older…" sounded, well important.

And there was, of course, the fact that they were un_deniably_, hot.

Now, I did the expected thing to do for a man in this situation: I went up to the cashier, paid for my fags, and went back to my car, where I finished off three.

I always was an anticlimactic sort of bloke, I know. And addicted to nicotine, practically overnight. Why? Jenova told me to find stress relief that didn't include brushing my hair because then it would fall out. I told her that I'm not that far gone. She laughed. Cow. But I still didn't want to take the risk.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Got to my posh Upper-Plate house in my convertible car and went straight to my labs. They're not as large or as well-equipped as the ones in Shinra, but they're good for personal projects all the same.

Went to check on my latest project- a patent which will certainly earn a lot and will forward science as we know it.

It has a beautiful form- curvaceous at some parts, rough at others, but beautiful integrated into a shape resembling efficiency, harmony, and violence. Hehehe.

Didn't know what to call it, so decided to think on it over a film. Which I am now going to see. Even though it is 4AM.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Film v. interesting. It was about this one man who had this thing against one man and while trying to kill said man falls in love with a dog. The guy in the row behind me was moved to tears, wuss. I could hear him blubbing all the way from where I was sitting. I for one, think that it was funny, with all its extreme violence. Because mutilation is hilarious.

Plus it gave me inspiration for my invention- I rushed to my labs, and the whole scene played out like cinema:

Thunder. Lightning. Halogen lamp lighting. Dark outside. Me laughing.

"AND I SHALL NAME YOU….THE SPORK!"

I know I'm a genius.

OoOoOoOoOo

The spork can be used to kill people in many different ways- I'll have to research it. It's pointy. I like it.

And I had breakfast with it.

Poke. Poking. Nice poke-OUCH.

Self-mutilation with a spork. HEHEHEHE. Otherwise known as sporking.

Spoooorking.

I think I need to get some sleep, I'm rambling.

TTFN.

A/N: Because only someone as demented as Hojo could have invented the spork. Yes, I know it's short, and not my best, but I figured you guys would want a short update rather than no update for another 3-4 weeks. In any case, please review with CC. But no C4. (HAHAHAHA- lame I know)

By the way, there will be no Mary Sues in this fic. Ever. Unless it's parody. I've recently had the misfortune of reading a Mary Sue fic, and I wouldn't force that on anyone.


	17. Day XVII

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Hopefully, faster/longer updates from now. This chapter was pretty much an icebreaker in the tumultuous relationship between myself and my stoic muses. Read: excuses, excuses. Hope I haven't lost many of my readers…

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day XVII**

Sephiroth was just escorted from the labs by his 'nanny'. He's had one of his bi-weekly checkups today- though I always find reasons to force him to the labs, just because I come up with new ideas for him all the time. My best one of these is to one day have him in SOLDIER; an army made up of Mako and Jenova cell infused soldiers. Funny thing I, I remember once thinking of something like SOLDIER in passing… and it came to be a couple of years ago.

I feel so accomplished.

Anyway, I was preparing some injections for Sephiroth, and I had my back turned for precisely _three seconds_, and when I turned back again, Sephiroth was standing just where he'd been before, with a blank expression as usual. But a lab assistant who'd been unfortunate enough to wander by was lying on the operating table, a scalpel stuck in his chest. It was really very annoying.

"Sephiroth," I snapped. "Why did you do that? What did Gast tell you about killing people?"

"Professor Gast told me that it's very bad," he said emotionlessly.

"And what did I tell you about it?"

"Not in the labs because the bloodstains are a bitch to clean, Hojo"

"Good boy. And it's _Professor _Hojo."

After that, I injected more Jenova than was needed. Aren't I mean.

Just before he left, he said, "Mother told me to ask you something. But now I won't tell you what it is."

Ah, kids. Acting like the parents exist solely for them. Not that he knows I'm his father, but whatever.

And yes, he's still referring to Jenova as 'Mother'. Didn't care enough to correct him.

Am only just aware of the corpse on the operating table. Maybe… hmmm….

Time for spork research!

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Was just marvelling at the beauty, precision and efficiency at which the spork can gouge an eyeball- you know, what with the tines _and _the spoon-shape- when some random lab 'assistant' came up to me. Without bowing, invoking the Lord of Science's mercy, or anything. Appalling.

(Come to think, I deserve a fanfare too. And a theme song. Imperial March, anyone?)

"Sir, the President is here to see you," she informed me. Just as she was about to try to leave, she saw the corpse with all the various pointy things sticking into it. "What-"

With that, I simply jabbed her with a tranquiliser.

"You're next," I muttered as I went to meet the 'President', revelling in my own bad-ass-ness.

You know it's true.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Well, that was different. Fat Man Shinra actually cares for something other than his money. Sort of.

It was funny seeing him in the lab- usually, if he wants to talk to me, he summons me to his office, as annoying as that is. But if he was here, it could only mean two things: one, I'm in trouble. Two, hell has frozen over. I _thought _it was getting rather chilly in the labs, as a matter of fact.

"Professor," he said, brown suit standing out amongst all the white. "It is my son's third birthday today."

_So what? _I thought. "Great," I said.

He cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, I was not informed of this until one hour ago… and I need something to present to him or else I may be accused of being a poor father."

Hahaha, but he _is._ Wait, did he just say…?

"You want something for a three year old… from here? Sir."

"Yes, is there a problem?"

"No, none at all," I lied. Crap, I can't think of anything appropriate on the spot. "A minute, if you will. Sir."

I don't know why I'm going along with this. If Fat Man Shinra is an ignorant bastard, that's his own fault! Not remembering your own son's birthday… even I can do that. I just ignore it.

Oh, I know why I am complying. Because I may get fired if I don't. Crap.

_What about the research animals? _I hear Jenova say. Good idea.

So I went to the cages where I keep all the animals.

OK, what would a brat like? A hydra? A Beowulf? A blonde wigged naked thing?

Hmm, not good.

Ah, yes, a kitten! Who doesn't like kittens!

I don't.

You did!

I don't now.

…I don't have time to talk to you. Go away.

So I gave the damned President a kitten to give to his boy.

Alright, so it's not exactly a kitten, more like a mako injected panther/wolf hybrid with a tentacle sticking out of its head. But it's a kitten because I SAY SO. It's pretty. It bit the President. Hehehe. And he couldn't do a thing about it. Hehehehehe.

Hang on… blonde wigged thing… I keep on putting off dumping it somewhere… maybe…

Whatever. Later. Maybe.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Was just finishing up for the day when a random Turk had the audacity to approach me on my way out. It started off well enough; a final confirmation that the Gasts are, indeed, in Icicle Inn, and a bribe on my part for them to keep it quiet.

Then it started going pear-shaped. Coincidentally, the Turk _just happened _to have had a meeting with Veld today, and he _just happened _to have gotten a message to pass on to me.

"The Boss says he knows what you're up to with one of the specimens," the Turk said with the usual expressionless-Turk countenance. "He also says that unless you release the creature, he will Pay You A Visit on February 14th."

Argh, stupid cornrow hair. Bad hair distracts me.

"Did he now?" I muttered as the Turk robotically stalked off.

I only got to thinking when that cornrow-mullet… _thing_ was out of the vicinity- yes, it was _that_ bad- that Veld may actually be serious. And that he may be talking about wossisface- _Valentine,_ if the protectiveness and the deadline are any indication.

Hmm, I actually don't have much time, Valentine's Day (hatehatehatestupidcommercialismstupidname) is in… a week and a half. Hehe. Crap.

Hehe, I may actually have to get off my perfect arse and do something about that bitch soon. Keyword being 'soon'.

And despite what Jenova is saying, I am not a procrastinator; it's just that Turks don't intimidate me in the least. Nothing does. I mean, look what I did to Valentine, the most dangerous of them in the upper ranks: killed him, mutilated him, psychologically destroyed him….and made him my bitch. In all aspects. Mwahaha.

May have to go buy cigarettes again. Two packets a day isn't too much, right?

_OoOoOoOoOo_

…Am in a slight bit of potentially-deep shit here.

Remember those women I wrote about yesterday, who were whispering about some future stuff in the newsagents I go to? One of them some random lady and one worked there? Come on, you know, the hot ones…?

Well, they're kind of, um, in my apartment. More accurate to say, I invited them here. Even more accurate to say would be that I'm writing this, in a panic, in the bathroom while they're waiting for me in the bedroom next door. _Yes, _both of them.

It went like this.

I was getting my fags, and Cashier Lady, whose name I don't know, said, "Man, who still smokes tobacco?"

The other lady, a woman with light-brown hair and an apparent fondness for fake eyelashes, said, "A man who's all proper, that's who."

That annoyed me a bit. _Me, _proper? "Yeah, what of it?"

The brunette was giving me a seriously come-hither look. "Just remarking on your… preferences…"

Cashier Lady wasn't giving up. "I can sell you other stuff if you want…"

And because I was in a what-could-it-hurt kind of mood, and not at all desperate or in a shock at having been sexually harassed, here I am.

Damn, I just _had_ to make spork innuendo at them. Oh well.

Anyway, deep shit comes from the fact that the brunette (called Aileen) turned out to be Fat Man Shinra's niece. And there is no turning back now, so if I screw up (haha) I could be out of a job.

That seems like a pattern today…

Ah, fuck it. I'll just go out there and… yeah.

Think positive things, Victor…


	18. Day XVIII

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Oh, look. I'm updating a fic which has something to do with Vincent just _after_ Valentine's Day, instead of on the day, _intentionally_. Aren't I original? (Sadly, it is)

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day XVIII**

MWaAhAHhaAHAAaa…. THE World will cower before me when I unleash my Internet Powers Of Doom and I will conquer and Divide and whatever and I shall kill them all because THIS IS MY UNITED STATES OF WHATEVER and I shall have the lovely Aileen at my right, not Cashier Lady because she reminds me of Valentine and Valentine is not good for state of migraines and have to do something or else Veld will kill me and Jenova will get pissed off and Sephiroth and lifesuckslifesucksLIFESUCKS and----

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Have the worst headache ever due to taking up Cashier Lady's offer to purchase some illegal substances. Ignore my rambling above, none of it is… whatever. Anyway.

It's already—5PM--- and Cashier Lady has left, probably to go push some more drugs. I can't seem to get rid of Aileen, though. She keeps on saying things like, "Oh, just have to go powder my nose," (probably literally) and "care for a cig?" (damn how she can already take advantage of my little addictions) when it starts to sound like I'm going to shoo her. Am considering throwing her out of second-story window. It wouldn't be too hard, seeing as she most likely weighs all of 110 pounds. Very tall, too: as a result, she looks like she hasn't eaten in about a year. Not a good look.

"Why do you keep talking to yourself?" she enquires, lying back on my sofa with a cig and a glass of my best Pinot Noir. (Damn her for opening it. I was saving it for my retirement/ Fat Man Shinra's death/ the day Jenova decides to take a vow of silence)

"Oh, it's nothing," I answer as Jenova makes an annoying quip about how odd it is that I'm entertaining _women. _Gah. "Just this imbecile of an alien who won't shut the hell up."

"Hmmm, a crazy man. I like it."

"…How much?"

Cue Round Four. I think I may just keep this girl around a bit…

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Aileen is sleeping. We had an… _interesting_ conversation earlier.

"So, any skeletons?"

"What?"

"You know," she says, grinning naughtily. "Skeletons. In your closet. Criminal tendencies, bi, divorce, alcoholic…?"

I went into hysterics at that. Not just any hysterics, MY version of them. Anyone else would have probably run out of the apartment without even bothering to dress.

All she did was raise an eyebrow and state, "All of the above, then. Cool."

Anyway, am now in Shinra building, checking on Sephiroth, because I feel like it.

He's in his room, reclining on his bed, reading I book. When I asked him, he told me he's reading 'Paradise Lost', by John Milton. I think he's been at my alternate dimension portal again.

No, I'm not surprised by the choice of reading material; it's not like the epic poem is the hardest thing he's read. Hell, he's read far more difficult things, in _Wutain._

He's still half-Wutain, after all. Even though neither of his parents are, any more.

I'm sitting at his desk, when he finally decides to talk.

"What are you doing here, Hojo?"

"Say that again."

He sighed. "May I ask as to the purpose of your being here…_Professor_?"

"Much better," I give him my definition of a beatific smile. He went pale(r). "I just wanted to inform you that since you are now of the absolute minimum height and weight to begin true combat training, you will begin next week. You will be instructed by the Turks."

"Excellent," he said, making it sound sinister, even with his seven year old pipes. "Will Veld…?"

"Whoever decides to teach you, will. They are their own department. I will see you at your check-up in two days time," I said irritably, and stalked off. He always likes the arseholes in this company. Except for Fat Man Shinra, which is a saving grace. Why can't he like me? Surely there would have to be some sort of unconscious attachment, even if he doesn't know our link?

Bah, it's not worth dampening my spirits over. An old specimen calls…

Note to self: what is Sephiroth doing awake at 11PM? Must reprimand caretaker. I need new specimens for alternate dimension portal v2.3, anyway.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Generally, when something has been immersed in Mako for more than half a decade, it would be either rotted, putrid, or turned into some mutated life form. Even more so when in extremely high concentration, if reports from the Nibelheim reactor are any indication… but it seems like I will have to depend on incompetent reports no longer, since I will be able to investigate it myself soon.

So imagine my surprise when I drained the tank, took out Valentine's-what-I-supposed-to-be-a-mutated bod, slammed it onto the operating table, and had a look.

He looks just as tasty as ever. Plus a stupid blonde wig for some reason. I took it off, and went to go around my daily terrorise-late-night-workers routine as usual, to give the body time to defrost before I went about Mako revival procedure.

Jenova says I make it sound like I'm defrosting meat for cooking. I'd agree, but the only thing I can cook is a TV dinner. And even then I accidentally leave it in the microwave for a minute too long, so it ends up tasting and looking like cigarette ashes. Makes you wonder what they put into those things. But I digress.

But then again, Jenova said that my… liaison… with Aileen has given me motivation to do something about Valentine.

It may have. But it may as well have not...

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Oh. Jesus. Christ. Was almost made to forcefully acknowledge my approaching-middle-age combined with substance abuse by way of sudden cardiac arrest/aneurysm, when, whilst stalking around floor 61, I paused at the edge of a corner in a corridor, having heard approaching footsteps.

The plan was to scare the living shit out of whoever was coming. I relaxed slightly when I heard the footsteps stop. As I started to jump around the corner, someone jumped at me.

"BOO!"

From my oh-so-dignified position on the floor, trying to calm my 160 b.p.m arrhythmic heart, I saw it was none other than… Sephiroth. And, giggling along with him by his side, Rufus Shinra. Both their eyes were glowing, in one's case because of Mako, and in the other, because of the moonlight.

But that's not the point. I was torn between being proud of the little devil spawn, and committing infanticide.

I was proud.

"Sephiroth," I said when their giggling had subsided and my heart had gone back to something resembling 72 b.p.m, "Go to your room. Right now. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

I purposefully ignored Rufus. I have no time for hero-worshipping toddlers. That, and saying one wrong word to The Boss's Kid could end up with me Mysteriously Leaving To The Other Side Of The World. I've seen it happen to lesser men who've been good workers (rare, I know) here. Shows how much of a brat that kid is.

Sephiroth and Rufus both toddled/strode off, smirking.

It was very impressive.

Eventually, I could stand and move without feeling like I could walk three steps max without dropping dead, so I went back to my labs.

So, what did I learn from this? To give Sephiroth more daily depressant pills. He's inherited some of my arrhythmia, unfortunately- side-effect of Mako and Jenova in high levels- and it's clear that he'll be in decidedly more threatening situations than being 'boo-d' by a seven- and a three-year-old. Of course, it'll result in a constantly chilled-out, hardly-ever-talks-vibe, but whatever.

Killing machines must always have control (when not killing), anyway.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Vincent, Vincent. To think I missed out on seven potentially kinky, never boring years filled with experimentation, with the one and only Top Trump Turk.

When I got back, he was already coming to. You know, I only noticed the yummy new length of his hair when I'd used the defibrillators on him. The effect was really quite hilarious. Also, I think he may have astrally projected himself into the alternate dimension portal v.1.2, and had a go at the crack pipe while he was at it, because the first thing he said, in a Costa-del-Solian accent, nonetheless, when he snapped open his otherworldly, red eyes I hadn't seen in so long, was this:

"Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

After the initial 'WTF' moment on both sides as we tried to make sense of this, he stopped looking in my direction and started looking _at _me. I returned the courtesy.

He's just one of those people who age like red wine. May have something to do with him being dead and not being able to age, but… _still_.

After a long moment in which I started to feel almost self-conscious, he went, "Oh shit."

"_Viiiiiiii_ncent… _hi, _Vincent, hello…."

I don't think I sounded very creepy. But he jumped back about a foot.

"Where am I? What am I? Where's Lucrecia? Where are my clothes…?"

This was incredibly annoying. "Already started with the questions, I see. And I don't see why you are so enamoured with your clothes, you look better without them anyway."

I didn't intend this one to be creepy, either, but he visibly flinched, which caused me to sigh in a world-weary manner and start going through the cupboards for wherever I'd dumped his clothes. Unless I'd incinerated them. That would be most unfortunate. Hehehe.

10 minutes later of rooting through cupboards in an extremely…_awkward _position and Vincent staring at my nice, pert posterior (what? I can be very honest) I found the vampire costume. I tossed it at him. He glared at me appreciatively (I refuse to take it any other way. His glares would never look threatening to me, they're too pretty) and hurriedly put them on. He even ripped off some of his cape, making a bandanna to keep back his loooong hair. It's as long as mine, actually.

"Hojo."

"…?"

"Stop staring at me."

"Oh, but the view is just so…" I purred.

"What are you going to do with me?"

"What do you think?"

"Well…uh…"

And he told me.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Some time later (my, my, isn't this a fun-filled day), Vincent asked again.

"I meant, what are you going to do with me in the long term? And what… has happened to me?"

"All in due time, Mr. Valentine. All in due time."

"Bu-"

The poor sod didn't have time to finish that sentence, because I proceeded to jab him with a tranq and hide him in a closet.

Hehehehe. Hide him in a closet. Hehehehe.

Well, I'm shattered. Might as well steal a coffin from the Turks department (for what I'm planning), bring it here, and then call it a day. I have some more time to deal with the Turk, after all. (Ex-Turk, I've only just realised. Ex-Turk.)

…And I just remembered that Aileen is still asleep in my house.

…Aren't I a hedonist?

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Just re-read the above, and realised that I sound as though I am completely besotted with Vincent.

OK. So, just to make it clear: I am not enamoured, attached, or otherwise dependent on the man.

And I have in_ no way, absolutely, definitely_ and _most certainly not_, as Jenova preposterously and idiotically remarked, fallen for him.

Just for the idea of the power I have over him and the scientific breakthrough I have achieved through him.

But of course. So Jenova, you can just shut your gob.

A/N: Right, so I have played and finished DoC in a day and a half… practically since my last update. (Yeah, I know. It was considerably less than three months. XD) And for the sake of our sanity and teh h4wt ya0i, lets just pretend that Hojo (**SPOILER**) wouldn't upload his mind onto 'the network' (insert joke regarding availability of it on Kazaa or Limewire here) or that he looks like someone who is, after all, SEPHIROTH'S father. Because we all like androgynous!pretty!open-to-interpretation!Hojo. Also, anyone noticed how he looks and sounds 60 when he's supposed to be 30 in the flashbacks?(**SPOILER** AND FANWANKING RANT **OVER**)

You know what to do!


	19. Day XIX, Part I

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Am starving artist.

A/N: No, hell hasn't frozen over; the muses are holding a fully loaded Desert Eagle to my head, telling me to type faster. -le sigh- Princess Bride quote shenanigans are half based on a true story. This chapter turned out much longer than the usual, so it is broken into two bite-sized pieces; expect part two in a few days.

**Memoirs of a Genius**

**Day XIX **

**Part I **

Was thinking about that thing Vincent said to me:

"Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

It got completely stuck in my head and is going round and round in a loop. I was just sitting there, staring at the wall for half an hour this morning, just saying it over and over and over again, first in a phony Costan accent, then correcting it, then lapsing into Wutain… I finally managed to stop when Aileen shot me a Glare From Hell.

I swear I'm going to find this Montoya character and say, "Hello. My na-ime is Victorrrr Hojo. You keeelled my brrrain. Prrrep-are to da-ee."

Oh, crap. Now Aileen's caught it. Only she's shouting it. Great.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Neighbours knocked on the door and shouted, "Could this Mr. Montoya just avenge his father and shut the hell up!"

Such is our eroded society.

Was about to ask Aileen to leave, but just then she came up with a really excellent question about chaos theory. So of course I just _had _to give her the full 101 while enduring that smug grin. That minx.

Haha, giving that 101 reminded me of the lecture I have to give in Midgar University later today. It's Fat Man Shinra's idea of 'promoting interest in Shinra's projects and strengthening the bond between the corporation and potential employees'.

I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. And the University _is_ sponsored by Shinra, anyway. It's also annoying that it's something I can't delegate, but then again, I _am _the only competent scientist around here.

The only remotely capable university grad we have is this one guy in a sub-division of my department who works on astronomy-related guff with hopes of designing something to go into outer-space with. He's the same age that I am, but looks twenty years older due to already-graying hair and what looks like a diet consisting solely of saturated fats. Jenova and I dislike his work immensely, for two reasons:

One, if it succeeds, Jenova's existence will be made trivial. We can't have that, because Jenova is Providence. After me, at least.

Two, again if it succeeds, then that guy will be top dog. And we all know that it is _I _who must be the Planet's Lord of Science. This is funny, because I could come up with the fundamentals of space travels in less than no time, if I wanted to, what with Jenova and my brains as an advantage. Thing is, I don't want to.

Anyway, I seem to have gone on quite a tangent. I was just telling you about a university lecture I must-

_-OhshitI'mlate-_

_OoOoOoOoOo_

Eventually got to the lecture, half an hour late. Fifteen of those minutes were spent in the adjacent bathroom, trying to do something about tornado-swept hair and trying to regain composure after almost being hit by a bus while hailing a cab. Seriously, you'd think I was hailing the _bus_. For some reason, that image set me off laughing. Even though it could have killed me. Hahahaha.

The roads here have _got _to be more dangerous than the slums. Not that it makes a difference to me, since I _am _the danger- you know, what with the badasstosity and the chemicals and Bob the scalpel-

Tangential today, aren't I?

Back on to the subject. I just walked into the hall and started giving the lecture about advanced particle physics- love love _love _that topic, so many potential apocalypses and space for creative thought- when I realised that I wasn't wearing my glasses, but could see perfectly well all the way to the back of the room. Almost had a mini spaz attack. Felt like that Da-chao monk on the Wutain news, who'd gotten paralysed from the waist down, and after years of worship and repentance had been healed literally overnight. Analogy appropriate, since I guess it's the Jenova cells' doing. Must investigate.

And just then Jenova told me that my sight had been fine for years now but I hadn't noticed due to attachment to glasses.

Think I'll keep on wearing them, despite perfect vision. They give me an added air of intellect and smexiness.

Bear in mind that all this happened in my head while I was explaining the idea of Von Neumann machines to some adolescents.

Ah, my perspicacity kills me.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

The children in the front rows started giggling while I was talking about the risks involved in high-energy atomic experiments. I tolerated it, because I can see what is so hilarious about quantum vacuum collapse. (Yeah, once I was _this_close to triggering one while tinkering around with a particle accelerator. These things can hypothetically make the universe _literally_ implode on itself, for reasons which aren't a hundred per cent clear, even to me. Imagine one minute just standing there taking notes, the next: "Oops, sorry. Just negated existence, carry on!" Comedy gold.)

They kept on giggling, even when I went on to the less exciting environmental physics, because we _know _that the ozone layer is heating up. We _know _that hydroxyl levels must have a certain balance. And we know_ all about_ the Save The Planet eco-freak- pah!- stuff.

At one point I thought I heard the word 'hickey' being whispered.

Unfortunately, that was indeed the case when I checked later. Damnit.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

On way out of the building, was greeted by bizarre sight of your typical pretentious-uni-kids-who-pretend-to-know-what-the-hell-they're-talking-about protest. Complete with the screaming of mottos and signs with slogans and pictures. The subject? Animal testing.

So imagine my _incredible luck_ at having been spotted. Rumours of Shinra's Science Department are protest fodder… so no wonder. The most maddening thing is that Fat Man Shinra _ignores, _and to a certain extent _supports _these protests, even though _Shinra is practically running the university. _"Helps them get it out of their systems," he said cheerfully the last time I got mobbed after a promotional job. You _see _what kind of _stupid_… never mind.

When I eventually got out of the mob ("PUPPY KILLER!" some girl shouts at me, among less flattering things from other students) I was quite literally shoved in front of an amateur camcorder. (The Doctor meets his abominable creation. _Why _did it seem like a good idea at the time?) Some girl, who looked to be around fifteen-sixteen, was holding the cam with a steady hand, saying something about interviewing me for some cable-access network show. I think it's name is something 'hip' and 'cool', like 'Collateral Damage'. Actually, that's an apt name for a teen-run show. If the bruises are any indication.

But still…I tried to run (do you blame me?) and people kept shoving me back.

So I just let out a long-suffering sigh and endured amateurish questions such as, "Doesn't Shinra regret?" and "How will future generations benefit?" I answered them through my finely honed Shinra-propaganda-which-I-don't-believe-in-but-I-still-make-it-sound-convincing!filter, giving all the right implications and intonations us media-whore executives have been trained to give in these situations, like a good little boy.

Bureaucracy really sucks sometimes.

Just for the record, because I notice these things: that girl has got to have the blondest hair I've ever seen. Either she has some improbable genes, or she has a really good colourist. I believe the former, but because I'm self-centered, and proud of it, I _want _to believe the latter.

_OoOoOoOoOo_

When I got back Aileen was peeling a pancake off the ceiling. I wisely refrained from asking.

"You know, I saw you live on Collateral Damage. And they _never _do live stuff. What a star."

"Mm-hm."

"Nice answers you gave!"

"Mm-hm."

"And guess what?"

"Mm-hm. I mean…what?" Jimmeny, that woman acts around ten. And I guess her to be in her early thirties.

"You know the girl who directs and writes Collateral?"

"The one who interviewed me?"

"Dunno, probably,"

I sighed. I do that a lot, lately. "You said you've watched it. Wouldn't you know?"

"Oh, yeah, hehe," she ditzed, and I realised that I either have a schizo or a try-hard on my hands, because the Aileen of the past forty-eight hours doesn't ditz.

"Well, _what about her?" _I was getting exasperated.

"She's kind of… my sister."

Small world, small world. Funny how everyone's related somehow. I sat through the next fifteen minutes listening to useless babble about a Gabrielle Black and how she and Aileen live together, with Aileen raising her for some reason I don't care to know because I don't care and _I don't need to hear this._ She still went on to say that apparently, Gabrielle wants to be a director when she grows up, and that's what Aileen and Cashier Lady were whispering about the first time I saw them.

This is all very nice, but _I.__ Don't. Care._ Except for the blondness. I took the opportunity to ask, and…drum roll…_it' real._

I mean. _Wow. _Though I don't know why I'm so surprised, considering I'm used to Sephiroth's hair. But still.

Aileen eventually finished her monologue, looked at her designer watch, and exclaimed, "Ooooh, won't you look at the time! Must dash!" Which she finally, _finally_ did. But somehow she got my number, so I'm stuck with the ditz. Liek, awesome!!!11one1!

Not.

Better get to Shinra Building. My presence there is needed… and I have some specimens to monitor.

Just remembered that I told Sephiroth to meet me in the labs this morning. Image of him waiting for me there all day makes yours truly crack up.

…And no, my organisational skills' declining has nothing to do with either Aileen or Valentine. It's just… I can take my work seriously _and _be a hedonist at the same time, you know?

Of course you don't. Hehehe.

_TBC. . . _

A/N: The particle accelerator hypothesis? I didn't make it up. Be Afraid. And hope that those nuclear scientists over in CERN know what they're doing.


End file.
